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THE AMERICAN SPORTSMAN'S LIBRARY 

EDITED BY 
CASPAR WHITNEY 



ROWING 



TRACK ATHLETICS 



.^^^^ 



r\ .iS 



Fj. crowther 



?iOYH H3T .H QMAV/GH 
t98I 'ni ziivok 'bhomsiiQ arir now oriW 



EDWARD H. TEN EYCK 
Who won the Diamond Sculls in 1897 



ROWING AND TRACK 
ATHLETICS 

ROWING 

BY 

SAMUEL CROWTHER 
TRACK ATHLETICS 

BY 

ARTHUR RUHL 




THE MACMILLAN COMPANY 

LONDON : MACMILLAN & CO., Ltd. 
1905 

^11 rights reser-ved 






LSBRARY ot GOMGRF.G: 
Two Coties R3csived 

NOV 2-1 1905 

I , Co;:yv!:i:!-t Entry | 
:UES ^ X/.C, Ko, 
COPY B. I 



Copyright, 1905, 
By the MACMILLAN COMPANY. 



Set up and electrotyped. Published November, 1905. 



Norivood Press 

J. S. Gushing ^ Co. — Berivick & Smith Co. 

Norivood, Mass., U.S.A. 



PREFACE 

The preparation of this account of the devel- 
opment of American rowing has been attended 
with no Httle difhciUty because of the wide area 
that it covers and the scattered and fragmentary 
nature of the sources. The greater portion of 
the information has been gathered by personal 
contact with and by letters from the men who 
were active in rowing during the periods in ques- 
tion, while the remainder has been taken from 
the contemporary sporting periodicals and the 
newspapers. I shall appreciate the noting of any 
inaccuracies. 

I wish to acknowledge the assistance given 
by Messrs. Reginald L. Hart and F. F. Hallowell 
of the University of Pennsylvania, Messrs. Lewis 
S. Welch and Julian W. Curtiss of Yale, Messrs. 
Charles S. and John M. Francis of Cornell, and 
Professor Benjamin Ide Wheeler, now of the 
University of California, in the college rowing ; 
Messrs. Henry Whiting Garfield, D. B. Duffield, 



vi Preface 

and Thomas B. Harper, in club rowing ; and Ellis 
F. Ward and Charles E. Courtney for general help 
in college and professional rowing. I also wish 
to thank the many other college and club rowing 
men throughout the country who have given me 
information and suggestions. 

SAMUEL CROWTHER, Jr. 



CONTENTS 

PART I — ROWING 

CHAPTER PAGE 

I. The Beginnings of Rowing ..... 3 

II. Collegiate Rowing through 1876 ... 28 

III. Collegiate Rowing, 1875-1898 .... 55 

IV. The Intercollegiate Rowing Association . .127 
V. Yale and Harvard 141 

VI. Club and Professional Rowing through the 

Civil War Period 147 

VII. The National Association of Amateur Oarsmen 161 
VIII. The American Rowing Association . . .191 

IX. Professional Rowing, 1872 196 

X. Style 203 

XI. Coaching 219 

XII. Training and the Rowing Type .... 226 

XIII. The Type of Rowing Man 233 

XIV. Equipment 335 



PART II — TRACK ATHLETICS 

I. The Gentle Art of Running 

II. The Beginnings of Modern Track Athletics 

III. The Organization of the Clubs . 

IV. Track Athletics in the Colleges 
V. Sprinting and American Sprinters 



247 
251 
256 
266 
296 



viii Contents 

CHAPTER ?AGE 

VI. Distance Runs and Distance Runners . - 321 

VII. Ckoss-Country Running in America . . . 346 

VIII. Hurdling and Hurdlers 354 

IX. The Jumps and the Pole-Vault .... 360 

X. The Weights and Weight-Throwers . . . 377 

XI. The All-Round Individual Championship . . 390 

XII. Competitive Walking 398 

XIII. International Games — English and American 

Track Athletics 402 

INDEX 429 



ILLUSTRATIONS 

Edward H. Ten Eyck Frontispiece 

Who won the Diamond Sculls in 1897. 

FACING PAGE 

Columbia Crew of 1878 64 

That won the Visitor's Cup at Henley. 

Edward Hanlan 198 

The Fastest Professional Sculler. 

The Race in which Arthur Duffey made the Record 

OF 9f Seconds 312 

C. H. Kilpatrick 332 

G. W. Orton 332 

George X. McLanahan 358 

Alvin C. Kraenzlein 358 

John Flanagan 388 

Malcolm Ford 396 

Ellery Clark 396 

Ray C. Ewry 412 



PART I 
ROWING 



ROWING 

CHAPTER I 

THE BEGINNINGS OF ROWING 

The idea that sport may be had out of pro- 
pelHng a boat with an oar is modern ; the heavy 
craft of our forefathers made rowing the hardest 
of labor, and it was not until the middle of the 
eighteenth century that it occurred to any one 
that a rowing boat might be made lighter and 
designed for racing. From then dates rowing 
in England as a sport, but another half-century 
had gone before the lighter barges found their 
way into American waters. 

In the period following the Revolution a num- 
ber of these barges were owned about New York, 
Philadelphia, and Boston. They were great, 
heavy boats, and rowed by 'longshoremen ; gentle- 
men did not row, but, sitting in the stern, satisfied 
their sporting instincts by making up scratch 
races with the barges that they met in the course 
of their excursions. The New York men had 
many a brush with the Long Island sweeps, and 
the rivalry between these sections became so bitter 

3 



4 Rowing 

that at last a challenge was given and a match 
made for the best four men of New York to row 
the best of Long Island from Harsimus, New 
Jersey, to the Battery ; and this is the first race 
in America of which we have a record. A day 
was set in the fall of 1811, and both sides went 
about having especially light and fast barges 
built. John Baptist was the leading New York 
builder, and he turned out the Knickerbocker, 
while Long Island relied upon John and William 
Chambers, who constructed the Invincible. There 
is no account left of these boats, but they were 
lio-hter baro;es than it was then usual to build — 
although heavy enough to our eyes. 

On the day of the race half a gale was blowing ; 
the big boats started up against the wind, but the 
Knickerbocker was the better sea boat, and soon 
left the Long Island crew far behind. The crew 
from New York were William Cracker, John Burt, 
Thomas Dixon, and Thomas Palmerton; while the 
Invincible was manned by John Chambers, James 
Rush, Peter Snider, and John Swinburn. John 
Palmerton steered the first boat, and William 
Chambers the second. The Knickerbocker be- 
came a famous boat, and drifted about from club 
to club, finally ending in a museum, where it was 
burned during a fire in 1865. 

This race was the first of a long series in barges 
about the Hudson and in other parts, the most 



TJm Beginnings of Rowing 5 

famous of which were those of the American Star 
— for the crews at that time and for many years 
afterward were known by the name of their boat. 
The Star was another production of the Cham- 
berses, and it had a m^ost honorable record. It 
was defeated in its first race with the Neiv York 
over a course from Wilhamsburg, Long Island, to 
Castle William. The Star for a time had the lead, 
but the New York closed up at the finish and won 
with a gallant spurt. Then came the great match 
between New York and Staten Island ; New York 
in the Whitehall, with Cornelius and Alfred Cam- 
meyer, Charles Beaty, and Richard Robbins, and 
John Palmerton, coxswain. Staten Island had 
the Richmond, but the Whitehallers were too fast, 
and won by about two lengths: the course was 
from Robbins Reef light to Castle Garden. 

In the summer of 1825 the English frigate 
Hussar visited New York, and her captain, hear- 
ing of the skill of the Whitehall crew, challenged 
for a race with four Thames watermen that he 
had in his ship. The course was to be from the 
frigate off Bedloe's Island to a stake-boat at 
Hoboken and back to the Battery. The whole 
countryside turned out for this, — the first inter- 
national race, — and the old accounts floridly de- 
scribe the cheering as the Whitehallers in the 
American Star rowed down to the start in their 
white Guernsey frocks and blue handkerchiefs. 



6 Rowing 

The Englishmen were already on the line clad 
in the regular man-of-war dress ; their craft — 
a London-built gig — was modestly named the 
Certain Death. Each boat had its national 
colors. The Star was off with the smoke of the 
cannon, raced away to the stake-boat, and 
straightened down the Hudson far in the lead. 
When they had passed the flagstaff, the Death 
was over a quarter of a mile in the rear. 

The fame of the Whitehallers and of the 
American Star spread, and, when General La- 
fayette was leaving New York, in 1825, the 
Star^ fitted with costly carpets and silver-mounted 
oars, was esteemed the fittest barge to carry him 
on an excursion down the river. The boat was 
later sent to him in France. 

During the next ten years there was but little 
racing, though the sport was growing throughout 
the country, and the New York barges were find- 
ing their way up the Hudson and down to Phila- 
delphia. The Imp and Bine Devil were brought 
to the Schuylkill in 1833, and in September 
of that year the two raced from Belmont to 
Fairmount, a distance of three miles. The 
Imp won in eleven minutes, according to the 
old account, which shows the prevailing playful- 
ness in dealing with the times of races. A number 
of other clubs were organized during the same 
summer, and in the first regatta given in No- 



The Beginnings of Rowing 7 

vember there were seven eight-oared boats and 
four four-oars. The Ariel won the fours, while 
the champions were quite upset in the eights, 
the Cleopatra winning, with the Devil fourth 
and the Imp last. The rowing spirit grew 
steadily, and many more clubs were formed in 
the next couple of years ; their life was not long, 
but they were the foundation of the present boat 
clubs of the Schuylkill and of the Philadelphia 
boating spirit. 

Many clubs were being organized in New York, 
such as the Wave, Gull, Gazelle, Cleopatra, Pearl, 
Halcyon, Ariel, Minerva, and Gondola, and they, 
in 1834, formed the Castle Garden Amateur 
Boat Club Association, with a boat-house at 
Castle Garden ; this was the first association of 
the kind in the United States and it had as objects 
both racing and recreation. Among the mem- 
bers were many of the fashionable young men of 
the time, and the barge parties from Castle Gar- 
den were reckoned among the pleasures of New 
York. But they were famous racing clubs as 
well, and the Wave was known to all oarsmen. It 
w^as their custom to have a new boat made every 
year by Crolius ; and so celebrated were their 
craft that the discarded ones were bought eagerly 
in distant cities ; Mobile, New Orleans, Savan- 
nah, and other Southern cities all started their 
rowing with Wave boats. The Rollins brothers 



8 Rowing 

were members of the Wave crew and had a con- 
siderable reputation as amateurs. The Gazelle 
and the Gull were other noted clubs, the beauti- 
ful blue Gtill finishing second to the Wave in 
several regattas ; it was the first barge to row to 
Philadelphia. 

The earliest of the Newburgh regattas, which 
came to occupy a high place in rowing for many 
years, was given on June 27, 1837. At this time 
there were some barges on the Hudson, and that 
rowing skill, which later gave the upper Hudson 
men so many championships, was in its infancy. 
In the race at Newburgh for six-oars were entered 
the CoT-sair and Highland Wave of Newburgh 
and the Gazelle, Gull, Wave, Halcyon, Pearl, and 
Minerva of New York. The Wave won with 
the Gttll second, the Corsair third, and the High- 
land Wave fourth. The Washington of Pough- 
keepsie started with them, though not entered, and 
came in ahead. The prizes were sets of colors. 

A rival to the Castle Garden Clubs had arisen 
in New York, — the Independent Boat Club 
Association ; they had many beautiful boats, 
such as the Disowned and Triton, but their object 
was pleasure rather than racing, — though the 
latter does not preclude the former, — and they 
did not have many fast crews. 

The four races between Stephen Roberts and 
Sidney Dorian of New York aroused much in- 



The Beginnings of Rowing 9 

terest at the time and were the first of the famous 
championship races in singles. In 1837 Roberts, 
the champion, challenged any man for a race in 
seventeen-foot working boats, and he was accepted 
by Dorian. The stake was $200 and the course 
from Castle Garden to Bedloe's Island and return. 
Dorian won the first race and then, a short time 
afterward, Roberts won. The third race was in 
1838, and Dorian, after going a few hundred 
yards, was taken with cramps ; Roberts rowed on 
and took the prize. In their last race, Dorian was 
ahead all the way, but nearing the finish was run 
into by Roberts's friends and prevented from finish- 
ing. The referee decided that the race should be 
rowed over, but it w^as never settled. It was cus- 
tomary in those days to have your friends out 
in boats on the course and to impede the other 
crew as much as possible: the race was not 
always to the swift — if the home man happened 
to be the slower. 

In 1837, Poughkeepsie gave its first regatta 
with but one race, and that for six-oars for a purse 
of $200 dollars. It was now becoming more gen- 
eral to give money prizes instead of the former 
trophies, and amateurs and professionals contested 
for them alike. Amateur meant only that the 
oarsman did not make a business of rowing; 
there was no real definition. Several celebrated 
barges entered the Poughkeepsie race: the Wash- 



lo Rowing 

ington of Poughkeepsie, the Bachelor of Fishkill 
Landing, the Robert Bache of Brooklyn, and the 
Gondola^ Sylph, and Erie of New York. The Erie 
had the best start, but the Washington shot out 
on the way home and won with the other boats all 
lapping with the exception of the Bachelor, which, 
as a possible victor, was cut off by a steamer. 

The Washington challenged any boat in New 
York for a five-mile race for $500; the Disoivued 
was the first to accept, and won easily. Then 
the Spark challenged the Disowned for a similar 
race, and the former victor was beaten. The 
Washington barge rowed the Victoria, Edwin 
Forrest, and Daniel D. Tompkins, — the three last 
of New York, — on the Harlem ; the Poughkeep- 
sie crew won by two hundred yards, making 
four and one-half miles in 27.15. A few weeks 
later, at Poughkeepsie, the Tompkinses beat out 
the Washington for a prize of a boat. 

In the yea:rs 1838 and 1839 two boat clubs were 
formed which still exist to-day and are thus the 
oldest in this country, — the Narragansett Boat 
Club of Providence, Rhode Island, and the De- 
troit Boat Club of Detroit, Michigan. The Nar- 
ragansett Club has the distinction of being the 
first of the present-day clubs ; they organized on 
March 6, 1838, with George G. Nightingale 
president. The leaders in the formation were 
William A. Greene, Henry Lippitt, Rufus Wat- 



The Beginnings of Rowing ii 

erman, Sullivan Dorr, Jr., William C. Allen, 
Charles Arnold, Horace A. Manchester, and Tris- 
tram Burgess, Jr. They owned a barge Narra- 
gansett, which made frequent trips, and in their 
old log is recorded under the date of July 19: 
" The Narracransctt arrived this morning about 
half-past six o'clock from Newport, having per- 
formed the voyage of thirty miles in three hours 
and fifty minutes. She was detained some time 
in consequence of a very thick fog, which they 
met off Nayatt Point. The crew looked fresh 
and hearty after their morning's row, and thought 
they should not be afraid to engage to perform 
the distance in three hours, in a favorable time." 

The Detroit Boat Club came into being nearly 
a year later, through the efforts of E. A. Brush, 
James A. Armstrong, John Chester, J. H. Farns- 
worth, A. T. McReynolds, Alfred Brush, Alpheus 
S. Williams, and S. H. Sibley. They brought a 
four-oared clinker from New York, and in the 
next year bought a Crolius boat and got it around 
through the Erie Canal. With these craft a two- 
mile race was pulled from Hog Island (now Belle 
Island) to the boat-house on May 24, 1842 — the 
first race in Western waters. The fire of 1848 
destroyed the house and all but one boat ; the 
club was later reorganized. 

There are no records of the 1839 regatta at 
Newburgh, and in 1840 the regatta was omitted, 



12 Rowing 

but in 1 84 1 the races brought together the lead- 
ing crews of the time ; there was the Washington 
of Poughkeepsie, the Anne of V^^V^AX, New Jer- 
sey of Jersey City, Galatea of Newburgh, Dutchess 
of Hyde Park, and the Spark and Eagle of New 
York. The distance was two miles and repeat ; 
the Dutchess won, with the Spai^k second ; and 
according to the rule these two boats raced again, 
and again the Hyde Park gig won. It was the 
custom in these regattas for the first and second 
crews in the first race to row again for the first 
two prizes, the third and fourth crews for the next 
two prizes, and so on. The second race was al- 
ways rowed a short time after the first, allowing 
a brief breathing spell. The 1842 regatta at New- 
burgh was the finest that had up to that time 
taken place in America, and the prizes, all of 
money, were of a considerable amount. The New 
Jersey won the sixes with Galatea second, Dtitchess 
third, and Eagle fourth. The Hookemsnivey of 
Jersey City, a celebrated double scull, was beaten 
in the double race by the Crolius of New York, 
and the George Washington of New York won 
the fours. It is remarkable that in nearly all of 
these crews are to be found two or more members 
of the same family; on the Hudson, rowing seems 
to be a family affair. 

The Castle Garden Association had been 
giving annual regattas all this time; but the in- 



The Beginnings of Rowing 13 

terest was waning, and in 1842 they gave their 
last regatta and went out of existence, but in that 
same year a large regatta was given at Castle 
Garden by the American Institute Fair — for re- 
gattas thus early had attained a certain financial 
status and were good advertisements. The Chap- 
7na7i, a four, rowed by the Roberts brothers, beat 
the champion George VVashingto7i. 

The rowing interest of Boston was steadily 
increasing, and on August 3, 1842, the first re- 
gatta was given over the Chelsea course ; there 
were four eights, — the Red Michael, Star, Wash- 
ington, and Bunker Hill, — all crack barges. The 
Red Michael won after a hard fight, and also 
won the second trial. The Star and Washington 
rowed with six oars for the second prize, and the 
former won ; there were three other boats which 
went over the course on time, — the Exchange, 
four-oars ; the Dart, two-oars, cross-handed ; and 
a skiff, cross-handed. A number of New York 
boats came up for the next regatta in the follow- 
ing year, and they took away most of the prizes. 
The Spark of New York won the eights, with 
the Red Michael second ; the Curtis Peck of New 
York won the sixes ; and the Wave, the New York 
crew, won the fours. The Curtis Peck issued a 
general challenge after their race, but no crew was 
willing to test them further. 

Harvard and Yale were in this zone of active 



14 Rowing 

racing, and, second-hand barges being rather 
cheap, several were purchased at each institution 
during the years 1 843-1 844, and the foundations 
laid for the racing clubs that followed within a 
few years. It was on May 24, 1843, t^"*^^ William 
J. Weeks, '44, purchased a four-oared Whitehall 
boat in New York, and bringing it to New 
Haven formed with Henry W. Buel, John W. 
Dulles, John McLoud, Virgil M. D. Marcy, John 
P. Marshall, and William Smith the first boat 
club at Yale, and which was also the first rowing 
organization at any American college. They 
called themselves the Pioneers, but lasted only 
a year. A month after the formation of the 
Pioneer Club, Edwin A. Buckley, '44, bought a 
four-oared Whitehall in New York, called the 
Nautilus ; with him were associated Henry C. 
Birdseye, James S. Bush, Henry Byne, Charles 
H. Meeker, Howard Smith, and Hannibal Stanley. 
In the same year Josiah B. Crowell, '45, bought 
a big dug-out on the Susquehanna; it was forty- 
two feet long with a beam of twenty-four inches, 
and cost but ^45. They called the cranky and 
ungainly craft the Centiped, and the fifteen mem- 
bers of the class of '45 who owned her — among 
whom were J. S. Bacon, William B. Bibbins, 
Daniel Chadwick, C. C. Esty, John A. Harding, 
G. D. Harrington, A. P. Hyde, Thomas Kennedy, 
and William T. Reynolds — arranged a race with 



The Beginnings of Rowing 15 

the Nautihis, the crew of which had been mak- 
ing game of the more primitive creation of the 
lower classmen. The Centipeds were a canny 
lot, and, taking the precaution to lash a stone to 
the keel of the Nautilus, they won. The writer 
who gives the story of the race gravely remarks : 
" The Nautilus crew labored under a disadvan- 
tage certainly, inasmuch as the Centipeds had 
strapped a huge rock to the keel of the Nautilus 
the night before ; but they would have won the 
more honor thus had they beaten." 

The first real racing boat at Yale was bought 
in 1844 by the members of the class of '47; 
this boat, the Excelsioj^ of six-oars, was the foun- 
dation of the racing spirit, and her crew were 
exceptional oarsmen for the time. In 1847 an- 
other famous boat was added to the collection 
by the class of '48, — the Shawmut, eight-oars, 
thirty-eight feet long. It had seats for six pas- 
sengers and a coxswain's seat high in the stern, 
so that the captain could look over the heads of 
the oarsmen, but it was a most uncertain perch 
in rough weather. During a storm in 1852 the 
Skawnmt broke loose and was carried over to 
Long Island, where she was left until she rotted. 
From 1844 to 1854 there were fifteen boats 
owned at Yale: six eight-oars, six fours, and 
three sixes; they were mostly stored in Riker's 
loft near Tomlinson's bridge. 



1 6 Rowing 

The Chelsea regattas of 1842 and 1843 did 
much to create a boating interest at Harvard, 
and in the autumn of 1844 ^ barge, Star, was 
purchased by thirteen members of the class of 
'46 and rechristened the Oneida, because one 
of the members of the club happened to have a 
set of colors with that name on them. It was a 
low black eight, thirty-seven feet long, and of 
such an excellent model that it sold from class 
to class for nearly a decade, and occupies a lead- 
ing place in the history of Harvard's rowing. 
Hardly had the Oneida Club been formed when 
'45 bought the famous Red Michael in Boston, 
subdued the name to Iris, and challenged the 
Oneidas. The race took place one evening after 
tea from the Winchester House to the Brighton 
bridge, a distance of about two miles. The whole 
university turned out and saw the new boat beaten 
by the Oneida by about five lengths. As yet the 
Oneida was the only club that had a house for 
their boat, but, several other clubs forming, a 
boat-house was built in 1846 where the Oneida, 
Iris, and the newcomers — the Huron and Undine, 
— kept their craft. The Oneida, in a series of 
races that roused the students, separately defeated 
all of these barges ; the Oneidas adopted crimson 
shirts as their uniform, which probably explains 
the Harvard colors. 

Then the boating of Harvard began to decline; 



The Beginnings of Rowing 17 

some of the clubs graduated, and in 185 1 the 
Ariels, " having been guilty of some irregularities 
in Boston," were disbanded by the Faculty, and 
they refused to allow other clubs to be formed. 
Thus from 185 1 to 1854 the Oneida was the only 
club in the university. 

The Yale oarsmen had their eyes on the prog- 
ress at Harvard and, largely through the efforts 
of James M. Whiton, '53, a challenge was sent 
to Harvard to " test the superiority of the oars- 
men of the two colleges," and a race was arranged 
for August 3, 1852, at Centre Harbor, Lake 
Winnipiseogee. The training of the men may 
be inferred from the remark of one of the Har- 
vard crew, that they "had not rowed much for 
fear of blistering their hands," and there was a 
pleasing absence of all that childish formality that 
hedges a race at the present day. The Oneida 
('53) came down from Cambridge, while Yale 
had three boats, — the Halcyon, manned by the 
crew of the Shawnmt, the Undine, the crew of 
which had to be filled out from the shore, and 
the Atlanta, hired in New York for the race. So 
eager were they to race that they had, in the morn- 
ing, a try out of the crews, and the Oneida won ; 
but the real test came in the afternoon on a two- 
mile pull to windward from a stake-boat out in 
the lake. The Harvard boat again won the first 
prize, a pair of silver-mounted black walnut sculls ; 



1 8 Rowing 

the Halcyon was second. Ten minutes was given 
as the time by the imaginative timekeeper. 

There was so much fun in the race that the 
crews thought they would have another go on the 
fifth ; but that day was very stormy, and the prize 
was given to the Halcyon as second in the first 
race. " Late in the day the storm lulled, and as 
a token of respect to the few visitors assembled, 
the uniforms were brought out, the boats manned, 
a little rowing indulged in, songs sung, the usual 
number of cheers given, and all said ' Well done.' " 
The whole party remained at the lake for a week 
and left together for Concord, where they parted. 
Such was the wholesome little regatta of 1852.-^ 

The rowing had thus far been by classes or 
clubs, but in June of 1853 the Yale Navy was or- 
ganized by members of the class of '53, who 
elected Richard Waite commodore. Boatins^ 
was on a firm basis at Yale, but it was otherwise 
at Harvard, where the sport was nearly dead and 
only kept alive by the old Oneida, which passed 
from '53 successively to '54 and '55. Early in 
1855 Yale sent another challenge to Harvard, and 

^ The crew of the Oneida were Charles Miles, Charles F. Liver- 
more, William H. Cunningham, John Dwight, Charles J. Paine, 
Sidney Willard, Charles H. Hurd, Thomas J. Curtis, Joseph H. 
Brown (captain and coxswain) ; the Halcyon was rowed by Albert 
E. Kent, Joseph S. French, William C. Brewster, Edward Harland, 
Joseph Warren, Arthur E. Skelding, William L. Hinman, James 
Hamilton (captain), Richard Waite (coxswain). 



The Beginnings of Rowing 19 

it was agreed that a contest should take place on 
the Connecticut at Springfield on Saturday, July 
21. The crews went down the day before to 
look over the course, but there was no prelimi- 
nary race. Yale had in the Nereid 2ind Nautilus, 
six-oars, and Harvard the Iris, eight-oars, and the 
Y.Y., a four without a coxswain. The Harvard 
boats were both fairly new and had outriggers for 
the first time ; they were of wood and braced like 
those of a wherry running from the bottom of the 
boat across the gunwale. The smaller boats 
had a time allowance of eleven seconds to the 
oar ; the distance was three miles — one and one- 
half down-stream and back, the turn being for 
the first time introduced in the college races. 
The Nereid got away at the start and turned the 
stake-boat ahead, but the two Harvard crews were 
rowing strongly and soon passed the Yale crew. 
The times were, Iris, 22 minutes; Y.Y., 22.47; 
Nereid, 24; and the Nautiltcs, 25. The Yale 
men believed that the victory was due to the 
Harvard boat, and they talked so much about it 
that in the evening three of the Y.Y. crew and 
three of the judges, who were members of the 
Union Club of Boston, took out the Nereid and 
went over the course in fifteen seconds' less time 
than the Iris had made in the race, which was 
doubtless gratifying to Harvard. The Harvard 
men were the more powerful, but they also rowed 



20 Rowing 

a better and longer stroke than Yale, that of Yale 
being " convulsive and quick and impossible to 
maintain for any distance." The success of the 
Y.V. without a coxswain led to the gradual dis- 
carding of the coxswain and the steering by bow. 

Many of the boat clubs that have been mentioned 
in the preceding pages had sold their boats, but 
there were new clubs being constantly formed ; 
they held many exciting match races, such as the 
great race between the four-oared boats Thomas 
Jefferson and the Duane for a silver goblet in 
1846 from Bull's Ferry, New Jersey, to Day's 
Point and return. The boats were bow and bow 
for most of the course, now one taking the lead 
and now the other, but the Jefferson spurted at 
the finish and won by three lengths. Charles A. 
Peverelly was bow of the Jefferson, and, though 
never famous as an oarsman, he became a familiar 
figure at races for many years as an ofificial, and is 
the chronicler of our early rowing. Another race 
of note was that between Stephen Roberts and 
Robert Martin in 1848 over a ten-mile course 
around Robbin's Reef; Martin was ahead nearly 
all the way, but Roberts passed him in the last 
few miles and won in one hour and twenty-two 
minutes. This race was in nineteen-foot working 
boats cut down ; they were rowed on the gunwale, 
but were made of very light wood and rowed easily. 

The boating of New York was on the decline 



The Beginnings of Rowing 21 

in these years, and in 1848, when the present 
Atalanta Boat Club was formed, the older clubs 
such as the Manahatta, Duane, George Washing- 
ton, and Conover had almost disbanded, and 
during the few years following they had all gone, 
leaving the Atalanta alone ; the Atalanta Club 
was formed on May 5, 1848, by Messrs. Charlton, 
Armstrong, Livingston, Carlisle, Cameron, Bailey, 
Thompson, Graham, Dunlap, and Aulger. They 
bought the Gazelle of the old Castle Garden fleet, 
but there was little racing about New York for 
some years. 

In 1850 occurred many professional sculling 
matches ; in this year James Lee rowed his first 
race, beating M. Conkling in nineteen-foot skele- 
ton boats, then used for the first time, from the 
Battery around Ellis's Island and back, and later 
in the same year he beat the champion of the 
time, Charles Thomas, and again at the regatta 
of the American Institute Fair defeated the best 
oarsmen of the day, including Charles Thomas, 
W. H. Decker, Hugh Burns, Hugh Curran, and 
John Mazanna. 

Lee rapidly came to be known as the leading 
sculler of America, and he had many contests 
with the other professionals who were sufBciently 
numerous at that time ; one of his hardest races 
was in four-oared shells between the George Wash- 
ington^ in which Lee rowed, the Zachary Taylor^ 



2 2 Rowing 

and the Adeline, all manned by prominent pro- 
fessionals. The three boats were lapping through- 
out the whole four miles, and the Taylor won by 
less than a length. On that same day, Lee and 
Hugh Curran in the Michael Murray beat the 
champion double Battery Pet, in which were 
Charles Thomas and W. H. Decker. Then 
came the final struggle with Thomas for the 
championship in 185 1, in seventeen-foot boats, 
from Castle Garden around Ellis's Island and 
return, a distance of three miles. Turning the 
island Lee showed his boat a half-length ahead, 
and by this distance won in a great struggle. 
The two men rowed two more matches the same 
year, Thomas winning both, the second because 
Lee grounded. A sculler by the name of Price 
became prominent by winning the singles at the 
Institute Fair in 1851, beating all the best m.en; 
but he did not succeed in winning from either 
Lee or Thomas in match races. 

Rowing was rising about Boston, the annual 
regattas were good ones, and there was racing in 
plenty; in 185 1 the Union Boat Club, which has 
always contained men who stood for the best in 
the sport, was formed. At first the club did not 
go in for racing, but in 1854, when the city of 
Boston decided to make the regatta a part of the 
Fourth of July celebration, the members induced 
the officers to add a wherry race — the first of the 



The Beginnings of Rowing 23 

kind in Boston. The regattas were open to both 
professional and amateur oarsmen, but there was 
also a Charles River Amateur Association that 
held annual meetings. The line was being 
drawn between amateurs and professionals, but it 
was still a very hazy one. In 1857 the Union 
Boat Club became prominent in the formation of 
the Beacon Cup Regatta for amateur oarsmen, and 
they won the first race with their six-oar, coming 
in beside the Harvard eight-oar and winning on 
the time allowance. There was a corresponding 
activity throughout New England; in 1857 the 
Quinsigamond Boat Club was formed at Worces- 
ter, and two years later the annual regattas of 
Worcester were instituted, while in the same 
year Charlestown held the first Bunker Hill 
Regatta, and there were also regattas at Spring- 
field ; there was some rowing in Maine, and in 
1857 the North Star Boat Club was formed, which 
was the first in the state to have a regular organi- 
zation ; it was followed in the next year by the 
Alpha Boat Club. 

The Schuylkill in Fairmount Park is especially 
well fitted for pleasure rowing, and it is not sur- 
prising that there should have been a number of 
clubs on the river at this time ; they were not 
the old clubs of 1835, but others that had taken 
the places and sometimes the boats of the former 
organizations. The city favored the building of 



24 Rowing 

boat-houses in Fairmount Park, with certain re- 
strictions of style, which has resulted in the erec- 
tion of many fine boat-houses. The Bachelor's 
Barge Club, still active, was organized in 1853, 
and in the following year a number of students 
of the University of Pennsylvania formed the 
University Barge Club; the original members 
were R. Ashurst Bowie, H. G. Browne, Alexan- 
der Brinton Coxe, Pemberton S. Hutchinson, 
Charles J. Maccuen, J. Beauclerc Newman, J. H. 
Peabody, Edmund R. Robinson, George H. War- 
ing, and John W. Williams. In 1858 the Quaker 
City Barge Club came into existence, and in this 
same year the Schuylkill Navy was created at 
a meeting of representatives of the America, 
Camilla, Chebucto, Falcon, Independent, Key- 
stone, and University Barge Clubs. The Undine 
Barge Club organized In 1856, and they, with the 
Bachelor's, joined the Navy at once, though they 
were not at the original meeting. The Schuylkill 
Navy aimed' to better amateur oarsmanship, and 
they still retain the customs of the old barge days, 
and hold every year a review of the boats of the 
Navy by the commodore and then race for the 
championship. 

Rowing was spreading Into the West and the 
South; In 1857 a ^arge regatta was given at 
Charleston, South Carolina, and many of the 
fast New York crews and scullers, such as Lee, 



The Beginnings of Rowing 25 

Thomas, and Decker, went down for the cash 
prizes. There were crews from Georgia and 
North CaroHna, and several from South Carohna, 
and in the race the craft varied in style from the 
four-oared Berry of New York to the fourteen- 
oared Wrecker s Daughter of Wadmalaw Island, 
and a St. Andrew's, South Carolina, barge of six- 
teen oars. The Becky Shat^p, eight-oars, of Da- 
rien, Georgia, won the race. The races extended 
over two days, and the Southern men showed 
speed, taking a majority of the prizes. 

In the West were already a number of boat 
clubs, and in Chicago the Lady Putnam was a 
famous boat that defeated all comers; in 1855 
there were two clubs formed in Milwaukee, Wis- 
consin, the Wenona and the Milwaukee, and in 
the next year the Lady Putnam was beaten by 
the Wenona. Regattas were fairly numerous. 

The spirit of the old Whitehallers had almost 
gone from New York, and from 1850 until the 
Empire City Regatta Club was formed in 1855 
there was practically no rowing. Then some of 
the former rowing men, together with many pro- 
fessionals, organized this regatta club with old 
Stephen Roberts as president, and for the next 
nine years they gave annual regattas that brought 
the best professionals of the country to New York 
waters, and gave many a stirring race, and made 
famous many a waterman. The New York Re- 



26 Rowing 

gatta Club came up in this period, but they did 
not give a regatta until 1859. 

The great crews of this time are nearly all pro- 
fessional, and the more important races were those 
for money ; it is now that the Wards and the Big- 
lins, and those other family names that have ever 
since been synonymous with oarsmanship, begin 
to appear in the races at New York, Boston, and 
on the Hudson. The J. D. R. Ptitnam of New 
York, with Stephen Roberts, P. Lynch, J. Mathie- 
son, and H. Larson, was for some time a crack 
four, and after winning at the Boston regatta in 
1855, they beat the Neptune four of St. Johns, 
New Brunswick, and began the rivalry with St. 
Johns. The Maid of Erin and the T. F. 
Meagher, both eights, w^ere rivals in Boston for 
a long time ; but in a match race over nine miles 
the Meagher won easily, and the Maiei was again 
beaten a few weeks later in a twelve-mile race for 
$2000 by an eight from St. Johns. The Dan 
Bryant, George J. Brown, and Frank G. Wood 
fours were famous ones in the Hudson regattas, 
the two former coming from New York and 
the last from Newburgh; they met in nearly 
every regatta, and now one and now the other 
would win, while in the match races for large 
amounts there were likewise no satisfactory re- 
sults. Joshua Ward, better known as " Josh," 
won his first race in single sculls on October 15, 



The Beginnings of Rowing 27 

at Newburgh, when he beat John Hancon in a 
two-mile race; Hancon was then one of the best 
of the scullers, but Ward beat him again, to- 
gether with Andrew Fay, another of the best 
men of the time, in the following year off Staten 
Island, and started on his career as a sculler which 
was not broken by defeat until 1862. He had al- 
ready been rowing for a year or more in doubles 
with George W. Shaw, and also in the Dan 
Bryant ; but this Staten Island race gave him the 
undisputed title of champion, with the great silver 
belt that was then offered. The belt was stolen 
a few days after Ward won it. The entries were 
Ward, Fay, Hancon, and Daw ; Ward won easily, 
going the five miles in 35.10, which for many 
years was a record. A race that drew much at- 
tention in the West was that in 1858 between 
the Shakespeare Rowing Club of Toronto and the 
Metropolitan Rowing Club of Chicago, over a 
five-mile course for $1000. The Canadian crew 
won by a long distance. W. B. Curtis was a 
member of the Chicago crew, and later had his 
amateur standing questioned on this race, but 
it was decided that it had not made him a pro- 
fessional. 



CHAPTER II 

COLLEGIATE ROWING THROUGH 1876 

There was no intercollegiate rowing after the 
1855 race between Harvard and Yale until 1859; 
but during this time both of the institutions were 
active and engaged in many outside regattas, put- 
ting not a little money into their treasuries, for the 
college men then went in for the money races as 
well as for the trophies. Harvard entered in the 
regattas about Boston, first with a big eight-oar, 
the Harvard, and later in a shell that they had 
constructed by McKay in St. Johns; it was built 
in 1857 and was the first six-oared shell in America. 
The boat was shorter, wider, and higher out of 
the water than the present-day boats, being only 
forty feet long and with a beam of twenty-six 
inches ; it was made of white pine and weighed 
one hundred and fifty pounds, while for the first 
time the outriggers were of iron. 

In 1858 the Harvard Magazine suggested 
that an association of colleges should be formed to 
hold annual regattas, and accordingly letters were 
sent out and on May 26 delegates from Harvard, 
Yale, Brown, and Trinity met at New Haven and 
evolved the College Union Regatta. Neither 

28 



Collegiate Rowing through i8j6 29 

Brown nor Trinity had as yet done any rowing, 
but their students were anxious to take up the 
sport. The representatives were Benjamin W. 
Crowninshield, Harvard ; Charles M. Smith, 
Brown; G. A. Stedman, Jr., Trinity; and William 
P. Bacon, Yale. The Freshmen of Yale also 
challenged the Freshmen of Harvard to a race at 
the same time, and the first regatta was set for 
that summer. Brown did not send a crew, but 
both Yale and Harvard, having for the first time 
chosen crews from all the oarsmen instead of from 
one club, went down to Springfield some weeks 
before the race. The Yale men saw the Harvard 
shell and at once decided that their lapstreak 
could have no chance with such a boat and sent 
to Boston for the four-oared shell of the Volante 
Boat Club. The Yale men had never before sat 
in a shell, and they had only a few days left until 
the race ; but they were improving rapidly when 
George Dunham, one of the crew, was drowned 
while out in a single, and, of course, the races 
were off for that year. 

The next College Union Regatta was appointed 
for July 26, at Worcester, and the secretary, J. H. 
Ellison of Harvard, had instructions to invite all 
other colleges to enter. The Yale shell arrived at 
New Haven three days before the race, and it was 
found to be rigged with the stroke on the port side 
instead of the starboard, which was then usual, and 



so Rowing 

the whole crew, in order to keep the same stroke 
oar, had to change. Four crews came to the start 
for the three-mile test (one and one-half miles 
out and back), the Harvard and Yale, six-oared 
shells, the Avon of Harvard and the Atlanta of 
Brown, lapstreaks. They were all away together, 
the high wind soon forcing the shells toward 
the west, while the gigs kept their course ; the 
Harvard shell had no steering gear and several 
times they had to stop and head in the course 
again, but they were so far better than the others 
that they won out by several lengths in 19.18; 
the Yale shell was second ; the Avon third ; and 
the Brown boat far in the rear. On the next 
day the Harvard and the Yale shells entered in 
the Worcester City Regatta for a prize of $100 
for the first crew and $75 for the second; 
there was a high wind, and the Yale boat, with 
a coxswain, kept out of the worst of the breeze, 
while Harvard, dependent on the oars, was all 
over the lake. Out to the turn Harvard led, 
but the steering of Yale on the last leg put them 
three lengths ahead of Harvard, and when the two 
crews straightened out for the finish, the Cam- 
bridge champions could not cut down more than 
half of the lead. This was the first time that 
Yale had beaten Harvard, and, incidentally, 
the college rowing received substantial financial 
assistance. 



Collegiate Rowing trough i8j6 31 

As yet there had not been much attention to 
style ; the object was to get there, and so long as 
a man was in time, it did not much matter what he 
was doino; inside the shell. 

There were no coaches, and the popular method 
of selecting a crew was by a survival-of-the-fittest 
trial, in which each man pulled a single oar 
against his rival and stayed in the boat or went 
out as he pulled or was pulled about. Every 
now and then some oarsman would challenge a 
member of the crew or all the crew, and each 
had to respond to determine the worth of the 
candidate. In the older barges and gigs the oars 
were long, usually about thirteen feet, and the 
strokes could not go very high, seldom reaching 
more than forty; but with the spoon oars, which 
came into use by the college crews in the 1859 
regatta, the length was decreased to ten and a 
half feet and the stroke raised correspondingly ; 
Yale went up to forty-five and finally to fifty in 
this race, while Harvard was but a point or two 
lower. Of course there were no sliding seats, and 
a hard jab at the water with a little swing made 
up the stroke. A member of that Yale crew says, 
" We took great pains to insure a good, strong 
catch, full thigh and loin movement before the 
oars were dragged past the perpendicular, a clean 
feather and a prompt, easy recovery." With the 
introduction of shells rather more attention was 



32 Rawing 

given to body form because of the difficulties in 
" setting up " the shell, but no one crew had any 
settled stroke ; it was merely a question of brute 
power, and the biggest men were the favorites. 

The formation of the College Union created an 
interest at Columbia College, and they bought the 
old barge Harvard from Harvard ; but they did 
no racing for some years, and the club existed 
principally to collect clues from freshmen. 

The second Col]eQ:e Union Resfatta was on 
July 24, at Worcester ; a Sophomore and a 
Freshman race had been added, and Harvard won 
all three. The Thetis, Harvard '63, beat the 
Glyuna, Yale '63 ; the Harvard Sophomores 
won from the Thiilia, Yale '62, and in the final 
race the Harvard shell led home with Yale second 
and Brown third. In the Citizen's Regatta, which 
followed the college races, all of the university 
crews were entered and made some money, but in 
the six-oared race the Gersli Banker from New- 
burgh, with Josh Ward at stroke, won easily. 

The Civil War took away many of the college 
men and prevented college races until 1864, 
though the crews rowed in a few open regattas; 
then the College Union races were resumed by 
Harvard and Yale ; Brown, discouraged, had 
dropped out. The Yale crew was captained and 
stroked by Wilbur Bacon, who introduced a longer 
and better style of rowing, and this, coupled with 



Collegiate Rowing through i8y6 33 

a hard training, made the six the best that had 
yet come out of New Haven, though the men 
averaged but one hundred and fifty-five pounds. 
Arriving at Worcester on the day before the race, 
Harvard invited Yale to watch them row — so 
great was their confidence. But in the race the 
championship was taken from Cambridge, Yale 
taking the lead soon after the start, and keeping 
it during the whole race. The Harvard Sopho- 
mores, with Frank Crowninshield at stroke, won 
from the Yale '66 by more than a minute. 
This Harvard Sixty-six, as the crew was known, 
were a very fast lot, and they rowed in many 
regattas during their period in the university. 
On the day after the college regatta they were 
beaten by a length in the Citizen's Regatta by 
the P. L. Tucker of New York — the famous 
Biglin crew. In the following year Bacon, in 
the stern seat again, set a beautiful pace, and 
Yale led throughout the entire race, winning in 
the very fast time of i8,42-l-, and on the next day, 
in the Citizen's Regatta, Yale again beat Harvard. 
William Wood of New York is mentioned as the 
trainer of the Yale crew. 

In 1866 the Harvard men had their shell; the 
boats were now being made of cedar, built ten 
feet longer than was usual and much narrower — 
fifty-six feet long with a nineteen-inch beam. 
The Harvard captain and stroke was William 



34 Rowing 

Blaikie, and he raised their stroke to forty-two, 
while Yale at the same time lengthened out and 
slowed the pace. The first race was between the 
Lawrence Scientific and the Sheffield Scientific, 
and the Harvard men won easily. Hardly had 
the race of the day been started when a rain 
storm broke ; Yale gained over a length in the 
first half-mile, but then the enormous power of 
the Harvard men told, and they came on stroke 
by stroke, and at the mile and one-half they had 
a lead of two clear lengths which lengthened out 
as the race grew longer until finally Blaikie 
brought the shell over the line in 18.43^, nearly 
half a minute ahead of Yale. The quick, sharp 
stroke of Harvard, running up to forty-two, proved 
superior to the long, slow stroke of Yale in which 
the arms played too prominent a part, and in 1867 
Harvard won by over a minute. 

Harvard, as the champion of the American 
colleges, was anxious to try Oxford or Cambridge, 
and they planned to row against Oxford at the 
International Regatta in Paris ; but some of the 
Harvard men could not take the trip, and it was 
abandoned. In April, 1869, William H. Sim- 
mons, then captain of the Harvard University 
Boat Club, sent a challenge to Oxford and another 
to Cambridge to row the Putney-Mortlake course. 
Oxford accepted at once and asked that the boats 
be coxswainless fours, but Cambridge never really 



Collegiate Rowing tbwugb iSjS 35 

agreed to row and finally dropped the race. The 
London Rowing Club sent a challenge for a match 
race, but Harvard declined on the ground that it 
was against their policy to row match races with 
clubs. The 27th of August was fixed for the 
race with Oxford. There was some opposition 
to the trip by the Harvard students, but, after 
many difficulties, the crew was organized thus : 
J. S. Fay, bow; E. O. Lyman, W. H. Simmons, 
Alden P. Loring, stroke ; Arthur Burnham, cox- 
swain. On the 15th of June they were beaten by 
the George Roahr, a fast professional crew ; but 
two days later, in another boat and without a cox- 
swain, Harvard won, and again in the Boston City 
Regatta they defeated the Hamill four from Pitts- 
burg, the Biglins from New York, the George 
Roahr of Boston, the Piscataquas of Elliot, 
Maine, and the Unions of Worcester : all of 
these fours were very fast, and the Harvard men 
established their right to go to England as repre- 
sentatives. They had plenty of advice to start 
them ; they were told that the heavy water of the 
Thames required a different stroke, and other non- 
sense of a like kind. 

Harvard reached Liverpool on July 20, and 
arriving in London were given the use of the 
London Rowing Club. They took a house for 
the period and were extraordinarily careful in 
their training and conduct ; before the race the 



36 Rowing 

interest became so great that the men feared the 
food might be poisoned by betting people, and 
for two weeks they had a secret supply delivered 
in addition to the regular. They continually 
experimented with boats ; two had been taken 
along together with Elliot, the boat-builder, but 
neither of these were satisfactory; others came 
from English makers, and Elliot made another 
so that, finally, seven shells were on hand from 
which to choose. The tests showed the last 
boat of Elliot to be the fastest; it was forty-four 
feet long, twenty-one and one-half inches in beam, 
and eight inches deep ; it is not unlikely that the 
time wasted trying out boats may have had some- 
thing to do with the defeat. 

The match brought probably the largest crowd 
that has ever witnessed a boat race ; it was esti- 
mated that nearly three-quarters of a million 
people banked the four and one-quarter miles 
of the Thames, and the betting was very great. 
Harvard began at forty-six, and at once led Ox- 
ford, who were rowing forty-two. The English- 
men had a very long swing, caught with all 
their force, and recovered slowly, all the time 
keeping the back very straight ; the Harvard 
oarsmen did not lay particular stress on the catch, 
but pulled the whole stroke through and finished 
hard, swinging but little ; their entire stroke was 
faster than the Oxford's, especially the recovery. 



Collegiate Rowing fbrougb i8y6 37 

The lead of Harvard increased to nearly two 
lengths, and an opportunity came to take the 
Oxford water, then a universal custom; but Cox- 
swain Burnham, because of an agreement with 
the Oxford cox, kept his course. And on the 
last half Harvard began to weaken, and Oxford, 
swinging evenly and strongly, came up ; slowly 
they came on, now lapping ; now bow by bow, 
and Oxford put their nose to the front with that 
same steady stroke, while Harvard was very tired 
and ragged. At Barnes's Bridge the English crew 
had two lengths, and then Loring raised his stroke 
and took the Harvard crew on a grand spurt that 
closed up part of the distance. But it was of no 
use ; Harvard was fagged, and the Oxford men as 
steady as ever, and thus they won by a length and 
a half. The time was 22.41. 

The Oxford four was thoroughly representa- 
tive of the best English rowing. F. Willan, the 
bow, now Colonel Willan, had rowed in four 
winning eights, A. C. Yarborough in two, J. C. 
Tinne in three, and S. Darbishire had twice 
stroked to victory. 

Harvard's defeat made no change in her style ; 
the second crew at home beat Yale easily, and in 
the next year. Harvard, taken with the short, fast 
stroke, used shorter oars and went up to forty-five 
and above in their race with Yale, who were 
rowing longer and slower; Harvard had a hard 



o 



S Rowing 



time of it, but won by three lengths. In the race 
between the scientific schools Yale won by over 
two minutes. This victory of Yale prepared the 
way for the race of the following year ; Yale had 
sliding seats for the first time, while Harvard 
rowed on the old fixed seats; they had increased 
their stroke to forty-four, but Harvard had gone 
still higher and were at forty-eight and often at 
fifty ; Yale fouled the Harvard shell at the turn, 
but they were clearly the better crew and came 
home more than a minute ahead ; the race was, 
however, given to Harvard on the foul. This is 
the end of Harvard's supremacy on the water. 

A Freshman race had been added in which were 
entered Brown, Harvard, Amherst, and Yale ; and 
the Providence six, also rowing a high stroke, 
won easily, with Yale second. 

Harvard's trip to England had drawn the at- 
tention of other colleges to boating, and from 
1869 on for some years there was a steady in- 
crease in rowing, which brought out, for a time, 
more crews than had ever before or have since 
been rowing in intercollegiate races. Down at 
Princeton the " Nassau Lit " had been talking 
of rowing for a decade and of the advantages 
of the Delaware and Raritan Canal ; but it was 
not until 1870 that some of the men clubbed 
together and bought two old six-oared gigs from 
Yale. They were decrepit tubs, and the whole 



Collegiate Rowing through i8y6 39 

college, scenting fun, turned out to see the first 
trial ; not a single member of the crew had ever 
before sat in a racing boat, and after a hundred 
yards of " the most ridiculous rowing were com- 
pelled to swim ashore, the leaky old craft having 
filled and gone to the bottom." The enthusiasm 
survived even the ridicule attending such a per- 
formance, and the Princeton College Boat Club 
was formed with C. W. Kase, president, and H. 
W. Guernsey, captain ; but Princeton did not 
appear at the college regattas for several years. 
Amherst, too, had the rowing craze, though their 
only course on the Connecticut River was very 
far from the college, and in 1870 they had a 
Freshman six in the regatta. Trinity had been 
trying to row ever since the College Union meet- 
ing in 1858, and they now became more active, 
while the Massachusetts Agricultural College had 
also bought a boat. 

Thomas Hughes, biographer of the immortal 
"Tom Brown," visited Cornell, then in its infancy, 
and wondered that the great lake had not already 
drawn the students to boating ; he talked in his 
happy way of the boating life and of the racing 
of England, and before leaving presented a cup 
to be competed for by class crews. The Tom 
Hughes Boat Club formed at once, and the next 
year the Cornell Navy came into being. 

The Naval Academy at Annapolis had been 



40 Rowing 

rowing among themselves since the close of the 
Civil War, encouraged by Admiral D. D. Porter, 
the superintendent ; they had two gigs and a four- 
and a six-oared shell, in which class races were 
held; but it was not until 1870 that they raced an 
outside crew. In this year William Blaikie, the 
Harvard oar, coached the Navy, and a race was 
arranged with the Quaker City four of Philadel- 
phia, then a celebrated boat, with Coulter, the 
professional, as coach. Both shells were fitted 
with the greased slide, but each thought the 
other ignorant of the arrangement. Coulter was 
boastful of his crew, and it had indeed a good 
record, but to his surprise and, in fact, to the sur- 
prise of every one, the Midshipmen won the race 
rather easily. Thus rowing was made popular at 
Annapolis for years to come. 

The old College Union was dead and now 
Harvard, taking the leadership, proposed the for- 
mation of g.nother association to bring the various 
crews into one race ; the result was the Rowing 
Association of American Colleges. Yale chal- 
lenged Harvard to a straightaway race, for the 
turning races were losing favor; but Harvard pre- 
ferred to row only in the new regatta, and Yale 
did not have an intercollegiate race this year. 
The course on Lake Quinsigamond had not 
proved satisfactory, and the first race (July 21, 
1 871) of the R. A. A. C. was held on the three- 



Collegiate Rowing tJjwugh i8y6 41 

mile stretch of the Connecticut River at Spring- 
field, between the Ingleside Hotel and the 
Chicopee bridge. Three crews rowed, — Har- 
vard, Brown, and the Massachusetts Agricultural 
College ; the race was thought to be easily Har- 
vard's, but the " Aggies " had a powerful six that 
had been well trained by Josh Ward, and they 
won easily by thirty-seven seconds in 16.46 J, with 
Harvard second and Brown third. 

The victory of the inexperienced " Farmers " 
brought out the rowing that needed but the 
hope of winning to develop, and in the races of 
1872 — for then a Freshman race was added — 
there were three new names, — Bowdoin, Will- 
iams, and Wesleyan — while Amherst came back 
with two crews, and Yale also entered the Asso- 
ciation ; Brown had only a Freshman six. The 
former course on the Connecticut had not been 
entirely satisfactory, and the men rowed from 
Agawam Ferry down to the Long Meadows. 
Again the new crews won both races ; Amherst 
and Harvard had the race of the day almost to 
themselves, with the "Aggies" a little way back; 
but the Amherst six proved the better and fin- 
ished in 16.32I, then eight lengths ahead of 
Harvard, who were leading the " Farmers " by four 
lengths ; Bowdoin and Williams were far back, 
but still farther in the rear Yale struggled along 
more than a quarter of a mile behind the first 



42 Rowing 

crew. Four crews were in the Freshman race, — 
Wesleyan, Amherst, Brown, and the Sheffield six 
of Yale ; Wesleyan won easily. Amherst's time 
is still a record. 

Professional coaching had by this time become 
general, and all of the crews in the races, with 
the exception of Harvard, were in charge of pro- 
fessional oarsmen. Every shell by this time had 
slides in various forms. Some had movable seats 
that travelled in grooves, others had wheels and 
runners, though they were not in favor, and many 
still used the smooth board, well slushed with 
tallow, on which the oarsman, his trunks reen- 
forced with leather, moved. The green oar loses 
a deal of skin in these days, but his predecessor 
had a much more uncomfortable time. The pos- 
sibilities of the slide had not yet been realized ; 
it was used only because it gave the rower the 
best position for both the catch and the finish 
instead of the compromise which was necessary 
when the seat and the fulcrum of the oar had to 
have the same relation throughout the stroke. 
The crews had nearly the same style as on the 
fixed seats, — a high, short stroke, with all the 
work in the arms and the back ; those who rowed 
a slower stroke had the same general idea, but 
with a longer swing. It was seldom that a crew 
rowed below forty, and it was only a question of 
how fast they could " bucket " it. After this race 



Collegiate Rowing through 1876 43 

of 1872, Yale, smarting under the terrible beating 
that they had received, sent their captain, Robert 
J. Cook, who had rowed in the crew of '72, to 
England to study English oarsmanship and bring 
a winning stroke to Yale. 

So anxious were they for the English ways 
that the legends say furniture and overcoats were 
sold and pawned to raise the money for the cap- 
tain's trip. " Bob " Cook spent a couple of 
months at Oxford and Cambridge and among the 
Thames watermen picking up ideas, and then 
came back with a modification of the English 
university stroke. He took their long sweep 
and the slow recovery in a degree and retained 
the American riggings ; he reduced the Yale 
stroke to thirty-two and thirty-four. Cook's 
ideas made game for the papers, and the oars- 
men of the day and the Yale Freshmen refused 
to follow him, engaging Hamill, the professional ; 
but the stroke, with Cook himself setting it, was 
successful in the regatta of the year. It was a 
sensible stroke and did not attempt too much, 
but brought rowing at Yale gently from the 
vicious short dig to a longer and more logical 
sweep. That Cook stroke was not the stroke 
known by his name in a later period, and it was 
not entirely a good stroke ; but it was a vast 
improvement over the former methods, and it 
marks the first step in the process of the devel- 



44 Rowing 

opment of an American stroke. There is some- 
thing more in rowing than merely " jackin' 
it up." 

The successive winning of the new members 
of the R. A. A. C. caused a rush of the smaller 
colleges to rowing; Brown dropped out for a 
year, but Trinity had at last a crew together and 
joined the association, together with Dartmouth, 
who were coached by John Biglin ; Cornell had 
been struggling along, and now, President White 
giving them a shell, they engaged Harry Coulter 
as coach and were admitted to membership. The 
Psi Phi Boat Club had been organized at Co- 
lumbia in 1872, and they were soon followed by 
the Columbia College Boat Club with A. B. 
Simonds as president and C. De R. Moore as 
captain ; they were also taken into the R. A. A. C, 
which now had twelve members, including Brown. 
The progress of the University Barge Club and 
the popularity of the college regattas increased the 
interest at the University of Pennsylvania, and in 
September, 1872, the College Boat Club was 
formed and a boat bought ; but the members did 
not feel skilled for the collegiate regatta. Calhoun 
Megargee was the first president, and with him 
were associated a number of the members of the 
class of '75. 

The races came off on July 17, and because 
of the eleven crews that were entered for the 



Collegiate Rowing fijrouglj i8j6 45 

University race the course had to be shifted 
down the river a quarter of a mile, which made 
the finish Hne come below a bend in the river, 
and, since it was parallel to the starting line, it 
was not at right angles to the shore. The crews 
came down early to the course — some a month 
ahead — and trained steadily under the severe 
methods that then prevailed ; they were up early 
in the morning for a run ; they rowed hard twice 
every day, and usually went over the course on 
time at least once, while any man who was not 
already down to skin and bones had to wear 
thick woollens, and the coaches allowed scarcely 
any water to the men who stood so much in 
need of fluid after their excessive perspiration. 
None of the crews had more money than they 
absolutely needed, and the railroads charged 
exorbitant rates for the transportation of the 
shells ; it sounds strange to read that nearly 
every crew lost their first day on the course 
because the men turned to and built floats at 
whatever point in the river they had selected to 
store their shells. The fourteen sixes, practising 
on the none-too-wide river without coxswains, 
came into frequent mix-ups, in one of which the 
"Aggies' " boat was wrecked. 

On the day before the University and the 
Freshman races the single sculls came off, and 
E. M. Swift, Yale, beat C. S. Button of Cornell. 



46 Rowing 

The Freshman race preceded the big race, and 
Yale foretold the results of the day by winning 
from Harvard and Amherst. 

The University race is historic as the "diag- 
onal line race " ; each of the eleven crews had a 
judge at the finish, while Alden S. Swan of the 
Atalanta Boat Club was the timer ; he took the 
times of the entire eleven with accuracy ; but 
when it came to supplying the names of the 
crews, it developed that the judges had been 
so busy cheering their alma mater's that not 
one had troubled himself about placing a crew. 
Harvard were under the impression that they 
had won, got the flags, and were away toward 
Boston, while the judges in profound session 
were trying to find the victor ; they decided 
at last that Yale had finished first, Wesleyan 
second, and Harvard third; but beyond that 
they did not commit themselves. The jubilant 
Harvard squad stopped at Worcester, and the 
flags went to Yale. The race had been a hard 
one all the way, but Yale led clearly at the 
finish, and there would have been no difficulty 
whatever about the line had not the judges been 
carried away in their enthusiasm ; the other 
crews were close together, and the best record 
that can be obtained of their finish gives this 
order: Yale, Wesleyan, Harvard, Columbia and 
Cornell, Amherst, Dartmouth, Massachusetts 



Collegiate Rowing through 18^6 47 

Agricultural, Bowdoin, Trinity, Williams. Yale's 
time was 16.59. 

Some question had arisen after this regatta 
with regard to the qualifications of the competi- 
tors, and the period being one of definitions, the 
National Association of Amateur Oarsmen hav- 
ing just defined an amateur, the Rowing Asso- 
ciation met and declared that " undergraduate 
students, students of colleges, members of the 
Association, candidates for the degree of A.B., 
Ph.B., or such other degrees as represent a parallel 
or similar course of study, with the exception 
of those who are candidates for the degree of 
LL.B., M.D., or B.D., shall be eligible to the 
regatta crews of this Association." At this meet- 
ing Princeton was admitted, though there was 
some discussion and the representatives thought 
that they would have " to draw the line some- 
where." The Springfield course had proved too 
narrow for the great flotilla of shells, and the busi- 
ness men of Saratoga desiring the regatta, it was 
voted to hold the 1874 races there. 

There had been a slight decrease in the row- 
ing after the victory of Yale this year; Amherst, 
Bowdoin, and Massachusetts Agricultural did not 
send crews, but the addition of the Princeton 
six gave nine University crews. The race was 
scheduled for July 16, and on the preceding day 
A. Wilcox of Yale beat A. L. Devins, Harvard, 



48 Rowing 

and E. L. Philips, Cornell, in singles. The Fresh- 
man race followed the singles ; Yale, Brown, and 
Princeton came to the line, and Princeton for 
the first time showed orange and black as their 
colors in public. Yale led at the start, and Prince- 
ton, steering wildly, was last, but their bow soon 
recovered and began to display the skill attained 
in taking the windings of their canal at home ; at 
two miles Princeton was gaining and Brown was 
going to pieces ; they came even with Yale a 
quarter of a mile from the finish, and raced in 
bow and bow. On the final effort, Princeton went 
ahead and won by less than a third of a length. 
They had finished out of their course and Yale 
protested, but the race was allowed to Princeton. 
The University race had to be postponed for 
two days because of the rough water, and was 
rowed on the morning of July i8. The victory 
of Yale with the Cook stroke in the previous year 
had a marked influence on the styles ; Cook was 
still stroking in the same way, and Harvard had a 
similar stroke, though they did not row it so well, 
and they had not increased the length as they 
decreased the rate ; the other crews, Columbia, 
Wesleyan, Dartmouth, Williams, Coraell, Trinity, 
and Princeton, all had professional coaches, Hank 
Ward being in charo^e of Columbia for the second 
year. Columbia, rowing forty, had a clear lead in 
the first mile, with Harvard second and Yale 



Collegiate Rowing through i8j6 49 

third, both rowing thirty-three ; the Harvard bow 
went over into Yale's water, and Yale, spurting 
hard, had to sheer as they passed Harvard ; then 
Harvard raised their stroke and steered into the 
Yale shell, taking away the rudder and losing part 
of an oar themselves ; Yale dropped out, but Har- 
vard kept on. Columbia had the race with a two- 
length lead on Wesleyan, who were lapped by 
Harvard ; back of them were Williams and Dart- 
mouth, with Cornell, Trinity, and Princeton still 
farther behind. The Columbia crew was a very 
fast one, and their time, 16.42 J, is a record for a 
six in dead water. 

Yale was very much disgruntled after this re- 
gatta, and the feeling between Harvard and Yale 
was especially bitter; Captain Cook wanted Yale 
to withdraw, claiming that there were too many 
crews in the races to make the test one of row- 
ing ability ; the matter came to a head at the 
next meeting of the association, when Hamilton 
and Union asked for admission ; at first they 
were voted down, but after a long argument a 
majority for their admittance was obtained, though 
Yale voted against them and said that they would 
withdraw after the next regatta. 

The regatta of 1875 was the greatest that has 
ever been held in this country, and certainly so 
many colleges have never since been seen on any 
course. There were no less than thirteen crews 



50 Rowing 

for the University race, — Cornell, Harvard, Yale, 
Columbia, Dartmouth, Wesleyan, Amherst, Brown, 
Williams, Bowdoin, Hamilton, Union, and Prince- 
ton, and the general interest throughout the coun- 
try was enormous. College rowing was the rowing 
of the day, and the people in general had lost the 
old interest in the professional races ; a contem- 
porary writes, " To-day the prospect of a race be- 
tween university crews will call together, from 
all parts of the country, people who would never 
think of riding a mile to see the most exciting 
match ever rowed between professionals." The 
throng in Saratoga was tremendous; for three 
days the railway had been unloading the specta- 
tors, who, on the morning of July 14, crowded 
every nook from which the least view of the 
stretch could be had. It was a few moments 
after noon when the referee gave the word that 
started the thirteen sixes down their buoy-marked 
lanes ; Yale had been picked to win with the 
chance of a struggle with either Harvard or Co- 
lumbia, but there was another crew in a novel 
paper shell who had trained themselves for the 
contest and who were held lightly — Cornell; 
Cornell's rowing depended on this race ; they had 
but little money — not enough to get a profes- 
sional coach, and they had, as yet, no graduates 
who knew much of rowing, but they did have 
a captain with full red blood. John Ostrom was a 



Collegiate Rowing iljrotigb i8j6 51 

remarkable man of great physical strength and 
determination, but not greatly versed in rowing; 
he had devised a stroke in which a hard catch 
was the main feature, and he and his crew had 
worked as few crews ever worked, spurred on 
with the knowledge that they must win or give 
up their sport. 

Harvard took the best start, with Cornell a lit- 
tle back, but the difference between all the crews 
was hardly noticeable ; Cornell was seen to pass 
Williams and to lead the boats on her side of the 
course, and then Harvard shot out on the other, 
dropping Hamilton and Union. The race had 
resolved itself into two divisions, with Harvard, 
Cornell, Dartmouth, and Columbia in the front 
rank, and Yale leading the second squad. Cor- 
nell was rowing in the forties, while Harvard and 
Yale had a lower stroke, Yale at only thirty. 
And thus they kept on. Harvard leading and 
Columbia second, hard pressed by Cornell and 
Dartmouth. The struggle began as the two- 
mile flags drew near; Cornell came up even with 
Harvard, and Dartmouth and Columbia were but 
a few yards back, and on them came Brown and 
Yale, with Wesleyan gaining on both. Bowdoin 
began to tire, and fell back with Amherst, Will- 
iams, Princeton, Hamilton, and Union. Before 
the two-mile mark was reached George Parmley, 
No. 4 in the Princeton shell, fainted into the 



52 Rawing 

arms of Van Lennep, putting the Tiger crew out 
of the race. 

They were on the last mile, and Cornell had 
forged to the front ; Harvard was still second, but 
Columbia was coming up ; Dartmouth had fourth, 
while Wesleyan and Yale were fighting for fifth. 
Ostrom sent his men faster than they had ever 
gone, and the Cornell lead grew with every 
stroke; Harvard was going to pieces; Columbia 
had passed them, and they rowed for third with 
Dartmouth ; Wesleyan and Yale were bow and 
bow. Columbia was less than three lengths 
behind Cornell, and Captain Goodwin started 
a glorious spurt to catch them. But Cornell had 
strength; Columbia could not gain; and Harvard, 
revived, sought Columbia, having still a lead on 
Dartmouth. Cornell cut the line first nearly 
four lengths ahead of Columbia, whose bow was 
a bare four feet in front of Harvard's. The nose 
of the Dartmouth shell reached Harvard's rudder, 
and at their waist was Wesleyan, a half-dozen 
feet in front of Yale. The next crew, Amherst, 
finished four lengths behind Yale, and the others 
were strung out over a quarter of a mile.^ 

On the previous day the Cornell Freshman 

^ The times in this race were : Cornell, 16.53^ ; Columbia, 17 04! ; 
Harvard, 17.05I ; Dartmouth, 17.10I; Wesleyan, 17.13I ; Yale, 
17.14I; Amherst, 17.29I; Brown, 17.33!; Williams, 17.43!; Bow- 
doin, 17.504. Hamilton, Union, and Princeton were not timed. 



Collegiate Rowing through i8y6 53 

six, coached only by their stroke, — John Lewis, 
another man of the Ostrom type, — had beaten 
Harvard, Brown, and Princeton, shaking off 
Harvard in the last quarter of a mile, and now, 
with the University race won, the happiness of 
Cornell was boundless ; the crew went into Sara- 
toga on the shoulders of the crowd, and then all 
the colleges excepting two joined in a procession 
with the victors. When the news reached Ithaca, 
President White played the first tune on the 
chimes himself and ordered out the cannon. 

In this general rejoicing Yale had no part; 
they were deeply chagrined at their failure, com- 
plete and without excuse, for not a foul had 
happened. Their only win had been in the 
single sculls, Julian Kennedy beating W. F. Weld 
of Harvard, the only other entry; and they were 
strengthened in their determination to get out of 
the association before another regatta. Therefore 
in December Yale voted to withdraw from the 
Rowing Association of American Colleges, and 
asked Harvard, Columbia, and Princeton to join 
with them in forming a new organization. Colum- 
bia and Princeton refused, but an agreement was 
made with Harvard to row an annual four-mile 
race in eight-oars with coxswains instead of the 
sixes. Yale gave as a reason that the great 
number of competitors in the former regattas 
made the racing unsatisfactory, but the real cause 



54 Rowing 

for their withdrawal was the disHke of being 
beaten by smaller colleges. The action of Yale 
was sharply criticised at the time, and, looking 
back, it seems to have been an unfortunate 
step that needlessly diverged the collegiate row- 
ing interests and created two separate schools, 
exchanging few ideas and still less courtesy. 



CHAPTER III 

COLLEGIATE ROWING, 1875-1898 

Harvard accepted the challenge of Yale to 
row an annual four-mile race, and agreed to with- 
draw from the Rowing Association, but not until 
after the regatta of 1876, though they would also 
row the race with Yale. 

The coxswainless sixes were not the most satis- 
factory of craft, and the challenge to row in eights 
with coxswains was pleasing to Harvard, and their 
race of this year is the first collegiate contest that 
ever took place in eight-oared shells in this coun- 
try. A six is not so hard to steer from bow as a 
four-oared shell, and the skill shown by the bow 
men was of a high order, as the regatta of 1875 
bears witness ; but the skill was more than could 
be reasonably expected of a college man who had 
not had many years of rowing, and there was too 
often the chance that the boat, manned by a fast 
crew, might be beaten because of the inability to 
find a man who could steer. The change to 
eights with coxswains was a following of English 
fashions, the Oxford-Cambridge race being rowed 
in that sort of a boat, and Yale in withdrawing to 

55 



56 Rowing 

row only with Harvard had the great Engh'sh race 
strongly in mind. The coxswainless crew is an 
American idea, and the six of that style has never 
been rowed outside of this country. The increase 
in the distance to four miles was another instance 
of the English influence at Yale which may be 
traced to Cook, who had picked up more than 
mere rowing styles while abroad. 

The first Yale- Harvard four-mile race in eights 
was held on June 30, on the Connecticut River, at 
Springfield, and Yale won without effort by over 
seven lengths in 22.02. This Yale eight was an 
excellent exponent of the Cook stroke, and rowed 
the whole course at from thirty-two to thirty-four 
and with a firm, regular swing ; Harvard was 
poor, their stroke v/as jerky, and the slide so fast 
that a writer of the time naively said they " came 
forward with a rush very taking to the eye." The 
stroke was the same for scarcely two minutes in 
succession, and Bancroft had it all the way from 
thirty-five up to fifty. 

The college regatta happened on July 19, and 
again on Lake Saratoga ; the Cornell crews made 
a record by winning all three events. There were 
six crews in the University race, — Cornell, Prince- 
ton, Harvard, Columbia, Union, and Wesleyan ; 
the Harvard six was made up out of the eight 
that Yale had beaten a few weeks before, and so 
unsatisfactory had been their performance in that 



Collegiate Rowing, i8y^-i8g8 57 

race that Cook of Yale came up to Saratoga for 
several days and helped out Loring, who was then 
coaching, and essayed to teach the Yale stroke to 
the Harvard men, at rather a late hour. The race 
was in the morning, and Cornell, the gallant John 
Ostrom setting a powerful thirty-eight and backed 
up by John Lewis, the stroke of the Freshman 
crew of the previous year, took the lead; Harvard, 
Columbia, and Wesleyan were together for a 
minute, and then Harvard started out for Cornell 
with Columbia hard after them ; Harvard reached 
the stern of the Ithaca shell, but then Cornell 
spurted, and at the two-mile mark had two 
lengths ; Columbia was steering badly, and it was 
only a question of Harvard or Cornell. Coming 
into the last half-mile, Bancroft started a grand 
spurt, and the crimson shell went up on Cornell, 
yards at a time. But scarcely had they lapped 
when Ostrom yelled, " Hit her up, boys," and 
Cornell opened the space as quickly as it had 
been cut down, winning by a length and a half ; 
Harvard was four lengths before Columbia, and 
they led Union by two lengths. Wesleyan was 
fifth and Princeton last. Cornell's time was 
slower than usual, 17.01^. 

Charles S. Francis of Cornell sculled away 
from H. A. Danforth of Harvard, F. D. Weeks, 
Columbia, and George D. Parmley, Princeton. 
Harvard, Cornell, and Columbia were the only 



58 Rowing 

contestants in the Freshman race, which Cornell 
won easily. 

"The only collegiate race of an international 
aspect that has ever been rowed in this country 
occurred during 1876 at the Centennial Exposi- 
tion in Philadelphia, when the fours of Yale and 
Columbia met First Trinity, Cambridge, made up 
from men who had sat in the winning boat in the 
University race, and they were thus well entitled 
to row for England. Neither Yale nor Columbia 
was strictly representative ; Yale had defeated 
Harvard in eights, and Cornell had beaten Har- 
vard in sixes, while Columbia had been third in 
the intercollegiate regatta; but both Columbia 
and Yale had good fours. In Yale's crew rowed 
R. J. Cook, W. W. Collins, D. H. Kellog, and 
Julian Kennedy (stroke), while Jasper T. Good- 
win stroked Columbia, and with him E. E. Sage, 
Caspar Griswold, and C. S. Boyd. Unfortunately 
a real trial was prevented by the collapse of the 
Cambridge captain, W. B. Close, when well up 
in the middle of the one-and-one-half-mile course ; 
Close had been ill during the whole time in 
Philadelphia, and would not have gone into the 
race had the substitute been in training. Yale 
won the race by two and a half lengths from 
Columbia. This race was on September i, and 
two days before the three crews had rowed in the 
heats of the amateur champion fours. Close had 



Collegiate Rowing, i8j^-i8^8 59 

collapsed in the first race of Trinity, and Colum- 
bia after winning from the Elizabeth Boat Club 
of Portsmouth, Virginia, had been unable to row in 
the semi-finals on account of illness. Yale won 
their heat, beating the Vesper and Crescent Clubs 
of Philadelphia, but were beaten by the London 
Rowing Club four in the semi-final by only one 
second ; the Beaverwycks of Albany won the 
final trial from the London Club in one of the 
closest races that has ever been rowed ; the two 
boats came to the finish line bow and bow and the 
" Beavers " won only because their oars were 
in the water when the bow hit the line, while 
London was on the recovery. Calhoun Megar- 
gee of Pennsylvania and Julian Kennedy of Yale 
were entered for the singles, but Megargee was 
beaten in his heat, and Kennedy did not row on 
account of the race in fours. 

Though college rowing was on a very fair basis 
in 1876, the next year and in the year following 
there was but little intercollegiate rowing, and for 
a time it looked as though the great rowing inter- 
est of the preceding years would soon be forgotten. 
With the withdrawal of Harvard from the Row- 
ing Association of American Colleges that body 
broke up, and the regatta, in which all could meet, 
vanished. Yale and Harvard had their race, and 
Harvard also rowed in eights with- Columbia ; but 
Cornell could not get a single race, and most of 



6o Rowing 

the other members of the Association either gave 
up rowing for the time being or contented them- 
selves with class races and an occasional appear- 
ance in a local regatta. 

Something of a revolution had been going on 
at Harvard in the way of rowing style, and " in 
the fall of 1876 some of the Harvard men put 
their heads together and concluded that some 
change was necessary in the Harvard stroke." 
How familiar that sounds, and how often it has 
been since written ! Their idea was to go back to 
the longer, sweeping stroke of the older Harvard 
crews and abandon the quick jerk that had been 
losing the races. Captain Bancroft was eager for 
a change, and R. C. Watson, who had sat in the 
crews of a decade before, agreed to coach; the re- 
sulting stroke was an adaptation of the stroke of 
a fixed seat to a slide ; the swing was long, the 
men going far down in the boat at both ends, 
while the slide was very short; critics dubbed it 
the "jack-knife stroke," but it was better than 
that of the previous year, and managed to win 
for three years. Yale said that it was only the 
Cook stroke changed a little, but there was a 
radical difference, though it is likely that the 
presence of Cook at Saratoga in the previous 
year may have had something to do with it. A 
better reason for its success may be found in the 
doings of Yale ; down at New Haven they had 



Collegiate Rowing, i8j^-i8g8 6i 

been getting away from the original stroke that 
had won and were setting too slow a pace with 
a marked hang at both ends ; there was a hard 
drive over a twenty-inch slide, but the swing had 
nearly gone. 

Harvard met Columbia on June 26 at Spring- 
field and beat them easily, doing the four miles 
in 21.32, or a half a minute faster than the Yale 
time of the year before. Thus encouraged, they 
rowed Yale on the same course four days later 
and won by about two lengths in a hard-driving 
race through water in which the whitecaps made 
the life of a shell most uncertain. Both boats at 
times were nearly swamped, and it was only the 
bailing of the coxswains that kept them afloat. 
The two shells were made of paper this year for 
the first time. 

The defeat of the English amateur crews at the 
Centennial Regatta prompted American oarsmen 
to send crews to Henley in 1878, and a regular 
American invasion was planned. Columbia, not 
having a race with Harvard, decided to have a 
try at some of the cups with their four-oared 
shell, which had the critical positions — bow and 
stroke — filled with two men, the equals of whom 
were not to be found in college rowing of the 
period, — Sage and Goodwin. They entered for 
both the Steward's Cup and the Visitor's Cup, the 
former being open to all amateurs and the latter 



62 Rowing 

only to colleges. Every member of the Colum- 
bia four had been in at least one important race, 
and they were well qualified to be the first college 
representatives of America at Henley. George 
Rives, who had rowed at Cambridge, and R. C. 
Cornell, a member of the winning '74 crevv^, looked 
after the coaching. 

Columbia was well received at Henley, and 
their style had the sharp criticism of the English 
press, which is one of the incidents of rowing in 
England; at first they were held easily, and of 
their stroke the Pall Mall Gazette said, " They 
keep their backs straight, but their swing has a 
wooden appearance, and is devoid of elasticity ; 
they hang at both ends of the stroke — on the 
recovery when their hands touch the chest and 
again when at full reach forward." They were 
on the course at Henley-on-Thames for nearly a 
month, and there is nothing to show that the 
climate affected them in the least ; as their train- 
ing progressed, the British oarsmen, who line the 
towing path along that stretch of the Thames, 
the very name of v/hich calls up the shell and the 
oar, began to think that perhaps this American 
crew might be able to row, and that they might 
have a chance in the Visitor's ; Columbia did not 
really expect to get much out of the Steward's. 
The first heats were rowed on July 4, and in the 
initial trial for the Steward's, Columbia drew with 



Collegiate Rowing, iSj'y-iSgS 63 

the Shoe-ivae-cae-mette four of Monroe, Michi- 
gan, who had qualified to represent America in 
the fours, and Dublin University/ Dublin took 
a full length on the start, having the central sta- 
tion, and then crowded over to Columbia's water ; 
the " Shoes," with their wonderful pace of forty- 
eight, had been rowing steadily and led by one 
and a quarter lengths when Columbia spurted, and 
Dublin, veering still more, crashed into Colum- 
bia at the bend just below Fawley Court. The 
" Shoes " eased up and rowed on down the course 
slowly, and the two colliding fours separated and 
finished, Columbia easily going ahead of Dublin. 
The umpire declared that Dublin had fouled 
Columbia, but would not allow Columbia to go 
into the final on the ground that the first crevv^ 
had such a lead at the time that the foul did not 
affect the result of the race. 

A few hours later Columbia went out for the 
heat of the Visitors ; there were entered Jesus 
(Cambridge), — the holders of the cup and the four 
that the English depended upon to win for them, 
every man in the boat having sat in the Uni- 
versity crew that beat Oxford, — University (Ox- 
ford), Lady Margaret (Cambridge), Hertford 
(Oxford), and Trinity (Cambridge). At that time 
the Henley Stewards had three crews in each heat 

^ The rowing of the American crews other than Columbia will be 
found on pages 170-172. 



64 Rowing 

instead of two as at the present day, and the 
course finished at Henley Bridge. Columbia 
drew the centre with Jesus in the Bucks and 
University in the Berks station. Thus the real 
trial for the cup was to be made on the first day, 
for any crew that could beat Jesus would win. 
Columbia left beautifully, rowing forty, and had 
a lead at the quarter, and at the Remenham 
Farm (about half a mile then) they had a length, 
and took the University water; Jesus made a 
spurt for Columbia, and it looked as though a 
deliberate foul would occur, and the oars did 
touch, but then the crews straightened out and 
the struggle started between Columbia and Jesus; 
the Cambridge men spurted grandly, and on the 
last quarter the boats were almost stroke for 
stroke, but Goodwin roused his men to forty- 
four, took at first inches on each stroke, then 
feet, and finally at the line had over a length in 
8.17. Hertford won their heat and were the 
American opponents for the final on the next 
day, though it was generally conceded that 
Hertford could not win without an accident. 

In the final, Columbia had the Bucks and 
Hertford the Berks shore ; both started nicely, 
but Columbia had the speed and at Fawley Court 
led by a length and started over to take the 
Hertford water ; the crowd of oarsmen following 
on the bank yelled to Hertford to spurt in order 



'^bwfc, 






COLUMBIA CREW OF 1878- 
That won the Visitor's Cup at Henley 



Collegiate Rowing, i8j^-i8^8 65 

to win on the foul, and Hertford did spurt ; their 
only hope lay in this spurt, and their oars nearly 
touched the Columbia stern when Goodwin called 
for another burst of speed, which took Columbia 
two lengths ahead. The rally had been too 
much for the Englishmen and bow grew weak, 
lost his control, and the shell ran into the bank 
with its fainting crew. Columbia, seeing the 
accident, slowed up and paddled down to the 
finish line. It was not altogether a satisfactory 
race ; but the Hertford crew were beaten before 
they went ashore, and could scarcely have finished 
in any event. 

Columbia's four — E. E. Sage, bow, Cyrus 
Edson, H. G. Ridabock, and J. T. Goodwin, 
stroke — were a remarkable crew, and their vic- 
tory, which is the only one that an American 
college has ever obtained at Henley, deserves far 
more praise than has been given. They con- 
ducted themselves so well that even the English, 
who lose so badly, could find nothing to suggest 
as to the demeanor of future crews. 

At home, things were going along quite merrily: 
Cornell, as yet without a race, had early in the 
year challenged both Yale and Harvard to any 
sort of a race over any course. Yale was anxious 
to prevent a repetition, and they tersely replied, 
" Your challenge is received and refused," which 
was sufficiently unsportsmanlike and discourteous. 



66 Rowing 

Harvard was more reasonable, and although they 
could not arrange for a University race, they 
gladly consented to a Freshman contest in eights, 
which was rowed on Owasco Lake, at Ensenore, 
New York. Cornell had never rowed in eights, 
and they had to borrow a boat from Columbia, but 
won the race without trouble. 

Harvard had been keeping up the same system 
as in the previous year, while Yale's rowing had 
gone from bad to worse, and with a crew physi- 
cally poor they combined a limited knowledge of 
rowino;. The scene of the race had been shifted 
from Springfield to New London, and for the 
first time an observation train followed. Har- 
vard won by nearly a minute, and led almost 
from the start. Yale rowed miserably ; they had 
a slow stroke, running from thirty-two to thirty- 
four, but it was slow, not because of the great 
power per stroke and an easy and graceful re- 
covery, — the essentials of a slow stroke, — -but 
because the men hung so persistently at the ends. 
This allowed the boat to roll, and before the 
first mile had been covered Yale was demoral- 
ized. Bancroft rowed the race for Harvard in 
the same style as the previous year; the stroke 
was thirty-six, with some higher spurts; but the 
catch was strong, the oar well pulled through, 
and the recovery good. The watermanship of 
this Harvard eight is well spoken of. 



Collegiate Rowing, i8j^-i8g8 67 

Rowing began to come up again in 1879, and 
two college regattas were founded that produced 
a plenty of exciting rowing and which were the 
precursors of an intercollegiate regatta. The 
College Boat Club of the University of Pennsyl- 
vania had been rowing for several years in near-by 
regattas, and they now determined to engage in 
intercollegiate rowing. A challenge was sent to 
Columbia and another to Princeton for a race in 
fours on the Schuylkill ; after several preliminary 
meetings the race was arranged, and the late 
George W. Childs donated a cup "to be rowed 
for annually by the Columbia College crew of 
New York, the College of New Jersey of Prince- 
ton, and the University of Pennsylvania." The 
races for this cup have therefore been known 
as the " Childs Cup Races," and for a number 
of years they made an important part of college 
rowing. 

The hotel keepers of Lake George, anxious 
to rival Saratoga's boat-racing, had an amateur 
regatta, and they, in this year, added a college 
race for four-oared shells, extending a general 
invitation, which several of the colleges accepted. 
The Southern colleges had some little rowing; 
the Rives Boat Club of the University of Virginia 
had crews, and Washington and Lee at Lexing- 
ton, Virginia, also kept racing boats, but the 
racing was confined to club regattas. 



68 Rowing 

The Childs Cup race took place on June 24; 
Columbia, after the victory at Henley in the 
previous year, was the most prominent rowing 
college of the day ; it so happened that the 
crew for Philadelphia did not contain any of 
the Henley men, but they had Jasper Goodwin 
as coach, and were fast. Princeton had done 
no rowing since 1875, and they hired a profes- 
sional ; though the crew was green, the boating 
spirit was high. Pennsylvania's four were not 
inexperienced, having rowed in a number of 
races for the College Boat Club, and they en- 
gaged Ellis F. Ward, the bow of the Ward 
brothers four, as a coach ; since that time Ward 
has been coaching Pennsylvania, with only a few 
intermissions. 

The crews all rowed high strokes, with con- 
siderable leg and arm work and not much swing ; 
the Columbia style was that of their Henley 
crew, the victory there having given them no 
cause to change methods. Princeton caught 
the start of the race, and for a short while held 
it until Pennsylvania swept to the front with 
Hart setting a powerful thirty-eight; at Peter's 
Island, a couple of hundred yards from the finish 
of the mile and a half course, Pennsylvania had 
two lengths on Columbia; then the Columbia 
men sent up the pace to forty and again to forty- 
six, until their shell was lapping. Pennsylvania 



Collegiate Rowing, i8y^-i8g8 69 

had not yet spurted, and they let out and won 
by a length from Columbia, with Princeton three 
lengths behind Pennsylvania. This first Penn 
four rowed and won many races, and its members 
— James Bond, bow, W. M. Stewart, Jr., David- 
son Kennedy, and Reginald L. Hart, stroke, — 
have since been leaders in the rowing of the 
institution. 

Harvard, holding to the system that won, turned 
out another fast eight, and Yale, on the same lines 
as the previous year, sent a still poorer crew to 
New London. There was no contest ; Harvard 
rowed away from the very start, and the only 
question was the distance that would separate 
the two boats. Harvard finished over a minute 
and a half ahead. Rather more than a month 
before the eight's race the champion scullers of 
the two universities had been tried over two miles 
of Lake Quinsigamond ; Warren N. Goddard of 
Harvard won by ten lengths from E. P. Living- 
stone, Yale. 

Columbia sent the same crew that had rowed at 
Philadelphia to the Lake George Regatta, and 
the invitation of the Association had also been 
accepted by Wesleyan, where there had been row- 
ing since the breaking up of the old college 
organization, though they had not been in many 
races ; the third competitor was Cornell. Rowing 
at Ithaca was in none too good a condition, the 



70 Rowing 

victories of the past, and the easy occasional races 
since that time, had softened the rigor of Ostrom's 
time, and the crews were inclined to believe that 
they could row fast because former crews had 
done so. Columbia had a light four, with an 
average of scarcely one hundred and fifty pounds ; 
Wesleyan was considerably heavier; while Cor- 
nell's men were very heavy — about one hundred 
and seventy-four — and were slow and far too 
sluggish for the short mile and a half race. And 
in the contest (July i8) Columbia showed ahead 
from the start; Wesleyan was hard after for a 
mile ; but Cornell, with bow exploring the lake 
and the stroke dull, were out of the race before 
it was half over. Columbia kept nearly the full 
distance at forty-four and won in the excellent 
time for lake water of 8.26, with Wesleyan a couple 
of lengths behind. 

The season of 1880 was one of experiment in 
rowing, and. the professional coaches began to 
have more and more power. Davis, the sculler, 
a most ingenious man, began to startle the row- 
ing world with his inventions: some of them 
were good and some were very foolish. He 
brought out the swivel oar-lock which was in some 
respects better than the thole-pins, although there 
is not such an advantage as it at first appears ; he 
had improvements in slides, and in oars and in 
boats ; his inventions succeeded, and for a time 



Collegiate Rowing, iSy^-iS^S 71 

the "Davis rig" was the talk of rowing men. 
His oars were curious affairs, only eleven feet 
long with blades over eight inches wide dropped 
below the loom of the oar, instead of being 
bisected by it, Yale was in despair at their con- 
tinual defeats, and it seemed as though the Blue 
would never again be the equal of Harvard. 
Some said that it was too much secret society, 
and various other reasons cropped out. George 
Rogers, then captain, believed that it was poor 
coaching, and in the fall of 1879 he asked for an 
advisory committee to form the rowing policy. 
This committee was appointed, and they threw 
away the system of graduate coaching and em- 
ployed Mike Davis to rig the boats and also to 
do most of the actual coaching ; he entered in 
the fall of the year and trained the men for the 
class races. Up to this time Yale had not had 
a professional with full power, and Harvard pro- 
tested; they talked of not rowing Yale, and the 
like, and then Yale put in Fred Wood as the head 
coach with Davis under him ; but the system was 
essentially professional, and Davis was the leading 
spirit. He introduced his " leg of mutton " oars, 
a longer slide and the swivel locks, and the result- 
ing stroke made much use of the legs and arms 
and little of the body — a hard drive from the 
stretcher, but without a tug at the catch and it 
was smooth; the pace ran well up, usually over 



72 Rowing 

forty. Princeton had taken John Kennedy for 
a trainer, and he, a firm friend of Davis, intro- 
duced about the same rig and methods there. 
Columbia made no change under Mr. Goodwin, 
and Pennsylvania had the same stroke, v^ith Ellis 
Ward as coach. 

The Naval Cadets at Annapolis had a revival 
of rowing, and early in the year challenged Penn- 
sylvania to a four-oared race on the Severn, which 
was won by Pennsylvania ; since that time the 
Navy has been active in rowing ; their race with 
Pennsylvania was the first collegiate contest, and 
although beaten, their present rowing was practi- 
cally established. 

The Childs Cup made perhaps the closest 
college race that has ever been rowed ; the con- 
testants were again Princeton, Columbia, and Penn- 
sylvania, with nearly the same crews as in the 
previous year. Pennsylvania got in the first 
stroke and led at the half-mile, when Painter, the 
Columbia stroke, was attacked by the cramps, and 
had to let down his stroke ; a few moments later 
Penn had trouble with the rudder strings and 
went out of the course, but had a full length at 
the halfway mark. Painter recovered, and started 
a spurt that brought Columbia even with Penn- 
sylvania in the last hundred yards, both crews 
spurting continuously, fighting their way against 
a strong wind and nearly exhausted ; they zig- 



Collegiate Rowing, i8yyi8c)8 73 

zagged, stroke for stroke; but a couple of feet 
from the line Penn had their oars in the water 
and were consequently ahead, when one of the 
men dipped too deeply, threw the boat down 
for a fraction of a second, and impeded the 
progress enough to let the Columbia bow over 
less than a foot ahead ; Princeton was a bad third. 
Pennsylvania rowed another close race three days 
later in the National Regatta at Philadelphia 
and were beaten by the Wyandotte s, one of the 
famous Michigan fours, by three-quarters of a 
second, and then joined Cornell and Columbia 
at Lake George for the regatta on July 16. 

With the exception of the Yale and the Har- 
vard crews, all the college rowing men of the 
time engaged in as many regattas as possible; 
and the captains believed that the more races 
rowed, the better the form, and there was no 
thought that rowing several races was too much 
for the strength — an idea that now obtains. 

In the Lake George Regatta, Cornell came 
up to form again after their lesson of the year 
before, and won by two lengths from the Penn- 
sylvania crew, who beat out the Columbia four by 
a length. 

Yale took a well-trained crew to New London 
made up of strong, heavy men ; they were op- 
posed by a lighter crew from Harvard, and the 
members of both eights were nearly all in their 



74 Rowing 

first year of University rowing. Harvard had 
lost Bancroft by graduation, and they had grown 
a little careless in victory ; the race was over in 
the first mile, and Yale had shaken off Harvard. 
Harvard was erratic, and Yale pulled steadily 
away and won by some eight lengths ; their stroke 
rarely went below thirty-nine and was often over. 
The time was extremely slow — 24.27. A race 
had been arranged between the Freshmen of 
Columbia and Harvard for the New London 
course a few days after the University race, and 
the contest was most exciting. Harvard were 
older and heavier than Columbia, the latter av- 
eraging only one hundred and forty-three pounds, 
but they fought pluckily; for a mile and a quar- 
ter there was but little to choose, but here the 
No. 4 in the Columbia shell broke his stretcher, 
and threw the crew out for a moment ; he quickly 
recovered himself and rowed the rest of the way 
sliding on the rails ; even with this, Columbia 
came in only a length behind Harvard, both 
eights being entirely rowed out. 

In the fall of 1880 an important meeting took 
place in New York between men from Cornell and 
Pennsylvania, which in itself has been quite lost 
sight of, but which has since dominated the policy 
of the two institutions. They formally agreed in 
favor of open competition, against match races, 
and that they would use their influence to further 



Collegiate Rowing, i8y^-i8g8 75 

a college regatta open to all. In this meeting 
was the genesis of the present association. 

After the Lake George Regatta, Cornell desired 
to send their four to Henley for the Visitor's Cup 
that Columbia had won in 1878, but their title to 
be representatives was disputed by Columbia and 
Pennsylvania, on the ground that they had both 
beaten the Cornell crew in the previous year, and 
in faster time than Cornell had since made. All 
three talked seriously of going, but Cornell was 
the only one that kept to their puq^ose, and their 
four entered at Henley, and also arranged a match 
race with a crew in Vienna, and planned to have 
several other matches — in fact, a grand tour. 
Harvard talked a great deal about the employ- 
ment of a professional coach at Yale, and some 
of the rowing men again wanted to break off 
the annual race ; such action was not taken, but 
two races were arranged with Columbia, who had 
an amateur coach. None of the crews went to 
Lake George. 

The trip of the Cornell four was ill-advised, 
and there was no particular reason why they 
should have gone ; but it is unfortunate that 
the conduct of the stroke-oar, Shinkle, should 
have cast such a blot upon the entire proceed- 
ing, which fortunately has no parallel in college 
rowing. The Englishmen at this period enter- 
tained suspicions of every crew that came out 



"jS Rowing 

of America, and they talked a long time about 
Cornell's admittance to the Henley Regatta, and 
asked a great many impertinent questions about 
their amateur standing. Cornell answered, and 
they were permitted to row for the Steward's Cup 
and in another four-oared race at Henley, but 
refused for the Visitor's. They had a later race 
scheduled for the Thames Challenge Cup at Put- 
ney, and then were going to Vienna. 

It came out later that Shinkle, the stroke, had 
made an agreement with a saloon keeper in 
Ithaca by which he was to row hard and win the 
first race, in which the betting would be against 
Cornell, and then to lose all the other races, so 
that the conspirators in Ithaca might make a 
great sum at long odds. One of the men was 
to go along in order to place the bets, but he 
could not get away, and the bets were therefore 
made at home. But London and Thames, the 
first crews drawn by Cornell for the Steward's, 
were too fast, and Cornell , made a bad third. A 
few days later Cornell rowed a slow crew from 
Hertford College, and Shinkle, unable to lose the 
race in any other way, fainted about halfway 
down the course. Then the four went down 
to Putney for the Thames Challenge Cup, and 
rowed London and Thames again with the same 
result as at Henley. The Vienna race was 
another dirty affair : the race was three miles, and 



Collegiate Rowing, iSj^-iSgS 'jj 

the Vienna crew were so poor that Shinkle could 
not keep his crew rowing slowly enough ; he had 
to lose the race according to the agreement, 
and his only course was to faint, which he did 
toward the end of the race in a dramatic manner. 
Shinkle was a big, strong man, who had never 
before given a sign of exhaustion in the hardest 
race, and his strange collapses roused suspicion. 
His fellows openly accused him after the race, 
and he could not make a satisfactory reply ; they 
cast him off on the spot, and the whole affair 
came out from Ithaca. Shinkle, a few years 
later, was committed to prison for a ghoulish 
crime. 

Three races were rowed at New London — 
Harvard and Columbia in University and Fresh- 
man eights and Harvard and Yale in University 
crews. Harvard had a big crew that year, with 
C. P. Curtis stroking, and it is said that they 
rowed their stroke very well except that they 
were ragged when the pace went very high ; 
a radical defect seems to have been a very hard 
finish rather than a hard catch, which is a better 
place to concentrate power. Columbia was light, 
and they had not become entirely used to rowing 
in eights, so that their stroke, well adapted to 
a four, had too much arm motion to be quite 
efficient for the ordinary crew in a race in eights 
over four miles. But the Columbia men gave 



78 Rowing 

Harvard a very hard fight for it; at two miles 
Cohimbia liad a length and held it until the 
power of the Cambridge men forced them ahead, 
and they won by thirteen seconds. The Harvard 
Freshmen beat Columbia '84 on the Charles at 
Boston in a race that resembled the Varsity con- 
test in that superior strength won. 

Four days later Harvard sent the same eight 
against Yale and were beaten ; Yale was rowing 
in exactly the same style as in the previous year, 
and Davis was nearly supreme at New Haven. 
Yale's men were all big fellows, — larger even 
than Harvard's, — yet they rowed a stroke of from 
thirty-eight to forty-two and forty-three, with the 
same tremendous drive of the previous year. 
The two crews were very even in speed, but Har- 
vard lacked the endurance, possibly due to their 
stiff race with Columbia; for two miles the crews 
raced beautifully ; now Yale and nov/ Harvard 
had the lead, and it was spurt for spurt, but then 
Captain Brandegee in the Harvard bow prac- 
tically gave out, and for the rest of the race he 
was a passenger for all that he pulled. Yale had 
then a fair lead, and Harvard could not cut it 
down, but they rowed pluckily and well, coming 
in only six seconds behind Yale. Yale's time 
was 22.13 against 21.45 ^^^ Harvard in the 
Columbia race. 

The Childs Cup race was unsatisfactory; for 



Collegiate Rowing, i8j^-i8g8 79 

Columbia could not row on account of the illness 
of Eldredge after coming to Philadelphia, and 
Princeton was the only competitor. George 
Sergeant, Jr., had been chosen to stroke the 
Pennsylvania four, but on the morning of the 
race he turned his anicle in a class rush ; no one 
else could stroke except R. L. Hart, who had 
stroked in 1879 and 1880, and though a student 
in the Medical School, he had graduated from 
the College. Princeton protested on the ground 
that Hart was not an undergraduate, and in the 
race they started, but merely paddled over the 
course a long distance behind Pennsylvania. 
In the evening, the representatives of the three 
colleges met, and they awarded the cup to Prince- 
ton. There was some hard feehng, and it looked 
as though there would be no more Pennsylvania- 
Princeton races; but before the next year the 
trouble had died away. 

Early in 1882 Pennsylvania challenged Yale 
and Harvard to a race in any sort of a boat, at 
any place, and for any distance ; but neither 
accepted, though Yale, in the heat of an annual 
dispute with Harvard about a race date, was on 
the point of arranging the race with Pennsyl- 
vania. But there was rowing in plenty this year ; 
the Lake George Regatta, coming into promi- 
nence again, brought several of the colleges back 
to competition and more crews rowed than at 



8o Rowing 

any time since the breaking up of the old Row- 
ing Association. Harvard was again challenged 
by Columbia to row a University and a Fresh- 
man race, and both contests were arranged. 

Columbia did not contest for the Childs Cup, 
leaving only Princeton and Pennsylvania. Their 
race was very even, and on the last quarter 
Pennsylvania gained nearly a length on a 
spurt ; Princeton tried to respond, but suddenly, 
when nearing the finish, Howell, the Prince- 
ton stroke, fainted, nearly falling out of the 
boat. 

The experiments with the fast stroke at Yale, 
and the apparent success of crews everywhere 
who rowed short and high, culminated in the Yale 
crew of 1882. Davis, the professional, was in high 
favor at Yale, owing to his record of victories, and 
at the beginning of the year he offered to take 
full charge of the training and rigging ; and if the 
Yale eight did not beat by a full minute the 
previous records for the four miles at New Haven, 
he would be content to be turned adrift with all 
his inventions. The saner rowing men were 
opposed to the full play of these ideas, which 
among other things contemplated a stroke run- 
ning to fifty; but the Davis men won, and he 
took charge. He had a boat made sixty-eight 
feet long with a narrow beam, and each pair of 
men sat in separate cockpits; from a distance the 



Collegiate Rowing, iSy^-iS^S 8i 

boat looked like four pair-oared shells, and his 
idea was that by thus dividing the men the oars 
would have a chance to get solid water, for with 
the short, quick stroke the spacing would be 
very short. Of course it was but a whim. He 
trained the crew in a shuttle-like stroke that was 
all arms and legs, and the pace ran away up — 
forty-four was rowing slowly. The trial in the 
harbor came off with leading members of the boat 
club as witnesses, and the eight w^ent the four 
miles in 20.09, whereas the record had been 21.15, 
and the prediction of Davis was justified. The 
crew went to New London full of confidence and 
beat the record every time that they rowed ; it 
was a big crew with enormous strength, and their 
average weight was one hundred and seventy- 
seven and a half pounds — the heaviest college 
crew that had yet rowed. They could keep up 
the steady pace of forty-six for the whole course 
without effort. 

Harvard had a lighter eight that had been well 
coached by Colonel Bancroft and Mr. R. C. Wat- 
son, and it was the fastest boat that had gone out 
of Cambridge in some years. On the records it 
did not seem possible for Yale to lose, and when 
the crews were lined up at the start, Yale, for- 
getting the contest and thinking only of making 
a record, called over to the Harvard men to bet 
that the time would be under twenty-one minutes. 



82 Rowing 

Yale started at forty-eight, with Harvard ten 
below; but their shuttle stroke did not send the 
shell far ahead, and at the mile they had only 
three-quarters of a length lead. The Yale cox- 
swain steered far eastward and entered the eel 
grass on the flats, while Harvard kept in the 
channel with the tide ; for nearly two miles Yale 
was on these flats, and in that time Harvard put 
on five full boat lengths, while Yale at forty-four 
could scarcely make their boat move. Harvard, 
in spite of their lead, were almost demoralized 
and swinging very badly. Yale came out of the 
grass and into the tide again, and with a stroke 
of forty-six went after Harvard, going up yards 
at a time. But the Yale cox went off on another 
tack, and where he had been over one hundred 
yards to the east of his course, he now veered 
to the west, and at the finish was on the other 
side of Harvard with the Yale shell only half a 
length behind the exhausted Crimson crew, who 
had been rowed out in the first part of the course 
in trying to keep up with the terrific pace of 
Yale. Harvard's time was 20.47-I, ^^'^ Yale was 
faster than that of any previous Yale crew in 
spite of their wanderings. Rowing men were 
glad that the freak stroke had not won ; but its 
speed had been demonstrated, and the same sys- 
tem remained for the next year at Yale ; it was 
reasoned that any stroke was good which could 



Collegiate Rowing, i8y^-i8^8 d>2, 

send a shell along at the rate that Yale had trav- 
elled over parts of the course. 

The Harvard-Columbia race had been set for 
June 24, or six days before the race with Yale ; 
but on the day before the race the Columbia cox- 
swain, Edmund Benjamin, was drowned, and 
the race was postponed until July 3. In the 
meantime the Freshman race occurred on the 
Harlem, and a diminutive eight from Columbia, 
that weighed on an average one hundred and 
forty pounds, won by three lengths. The agree- 
ment for the University race at New London 
read that the contest was to take place on a fair 
ebb-tide. It was high tide at noon and Harvard 
wanted to row, but Columbia would not row 
until the water had started out, otherwise Har- 
vard would have an advantage in course. Har- 
vard refused to row and went home, and Referee 
R. C. Watson gave the flags to Columbia on their 
row over. 

Up at Lake George gathered Cornell, Prince- 
ton, and Pennsylvania for the four-oared race 
together with Bowdoin and Wesleyan, who were 
back in rowing again. An eight's race had 
also been included in the regatta and had been 
entered by Columbia and Pennsylvania, the latter 
in their first eight-oared shell. But the loss of 
the Columbia coxswain and the postponement 
of their race with Harvard to July 3 caused them 



84 Rowing 

to cancel their race with Pennsylvania, although 
the latter offered to row on another date. 

Bowdoin had adopted the Davis ideas, and 
their four was very long, with the double cockpit 
and the two pairs widely separated : they had the 
peculiar oars and, in fact, all the gimcracks that 
the genius of Davis could put about a boat; their 
stroke was very high, and Davis himself was on 
hand to give the instruction. The Princeton and 
Pennsylvania fours were the same that had rowed 
in Philadelphia; but Wesleyan was well thought 
of because of a victory over the fast Atalanta 
four a short time previous in New York, and they 
had also beaten Princeton. In practice none of 
the crews, with the exception of Bowdoin, showed 
any remarkable strokes ; but w4ien the race had 
once started, Pennsylvania and Princeton were 
the only crews to preserve the styles that they 
used in practice. Bowdoin started at forty-five, 
and Cornell and Wesleyan, trying to keep up, ran 
up their strokes to forty-six and forty-seven — a 
pace that they had never tried before. For a 
time Pennsylvania and Princeton, rowing only 
thirty-six, were last, but they swung steadily 
along with the others ; Cornell led for a mile, 
when No. 3 gave out, and they dropped back 
to exhausted Bowdoin ; Princeton took the lead, 
while Wesleyan kept on in spite of their fast 
stroke and were in second place, with Pennsyl- 



Collegiate Rowing, iSy^-i8^8 85 

vania third. Coming into the last quarter Howell, 
the Princeton stroke, was seen to be on the point 
of collapsing and Wesleyan took the fore, but 
only for a moment ; Pennsylvania had started a 
spurt with the stroke at forty and passed the line 
two lengths ahead of Wesleyan, who were lead- 
ing Princeton. Penn's time was about 9.35, but 
could not be taken exactly because a boat came 
between the timer and the finish judge. Howell 
of Princeton had to be lifted from the shell and 
was completely exhausted ; he could row the 
hardest time trial without trouble, yet in his 
three races this year he fainted during every 
final spurt when the race was about won. 

The Lake George Regatta showed more clearly 
than the race at New London the dangers of run- 
ning the stroke too high, and the two crews that 
kept to a moderate pace — Pennsylvania and 
Princeton — were the real factors at the finish, 
though of course the accident put out Princeton. 
But it took another season more fully to demon- 
strate the fallacy of the shuttle action in a boat. 

College rowing was now in a healthy condition 
once more and felt the need of an association to 
take the place of the defunct Rowing Association 
of American Colleges — a body that could control 
the rowing and give an annual chance to find out 
who had the best crew; it was not dignified nor 
entirely agreeable to have the only open college 



86 ^ Rowing 

regatta managed by business men as a business 
enterprise. And early in 1883 a meeting was 
called, at the instance of Cornell and Pennsylva- 
nia, to effect organization. To it came delegates 
from Cornell, Princeton, Columbia, Wesleyan, 
Bowdoin, Rutgers, and Pennsylvania, and the 
Intercollegiate Rowing Association was the re- 
sult. The question of eligibility arose at once, 
for there had been no rules and any man might 
compete for any institution if his name were only 
on the rolls ; residence or attendance had not 
been considered. The meeting, after fully discuss- 
ing the question, decided that, in order to qualify 
for the regatta, an oarsman must have attended 
at least six lectures a week for half a year before 
the regatta at the institution which he desired to 
represent. Lake George was settled upon for the 
first meeting place of the association, and Messrs. 
Charles R. Francis, Cornell, Reginald L. Hart, 
Pennsylvania, and John E. Eustis, Wesleyan, 
composed the regatta committee. 

Columbia and Pennsylvania opened the racing 
season for the colleges at the Passaic Regatta, 
where the eights met in a mile and a half race, 
and Columbia won by a second and a half. The 
Columbia eight had several other victories in 
open regattas, and went into their race with Har- 
vard at New London with the greatest confidence, 
determined to avenge the shabby treatment of 



Collegiate Rowing, i8yyi8g8 Sy 

Harvard in the previous year. The Harvard 
crew had no such confidence ; they had gone 
through a season of trouble, several of the men 
had to be taken out for one cause or another after 
the crew had been selected, and they had lost their 
stroke-oar; but the men had been well coached, 
and their misfortunes had really improved them. 
Columbia had far too much weight in the shell 
and were very sluggish. Harvard won by be- 
tween fifteen and twenty lengths. In the Fresh- 
man race a few days later Columbia put a very 
fair crew, but three " crabs " by the Columbia 
boys gave the race to Harvard, although it is 
likely that they would have won in any event. 
Davis was in full charge at Yale this year, and 
another test of his theories was made — and a 
final one. He had a shell similar to the one of 
the previous year, with the men rowing in pairs ; 
and the craft was a full seventy feet long, with 
a big wind-sail on the bow. The men had been 
taught to row from forty-five to fifty, and had 
been given a tremendous amount of work. For 
five weeks before the race they had gone over the 
course every day on time and made good figures, 
but by the day of the race they were so badly 
overtrained that only a fraction of their real 
power could be applied. Folsom, the stroke, who 
for three years had made the fast pace, was in 
especially poor condition and should not have 



88 Rowing 

been allowed in the race. Harvard's crew had 
been brought along on the same principles as the 
previous year, and the lack of confidence, which 
would probably otherwise have beaten them, was 
supplied by the defeat of Columbia. But Yale 
was the only crew that could win in the minds of 
the generality; their improvements in style and 
equipment were thought to have rendered them 
invincible, and possibly they might have done 
something had they been in condition to row. 

At the start, Yale dashed away at a stroke that 
is variously given from fifty to fifty-three, and the 
boat from a distance resembled a youthful water- 
spout ; Harvard was at thirty-seven with a long, 
hard swing that contrasted with the pumplike 
action of Yale. At the half-mile, Perkins raised 
the Harvard stroke and they passed Yale ; from 
that point the race was settled. Folsom kept 
hitting up the Yale stroke, but there was no 
time — simply a slashing through the water, and 
Harvard went steadily on. They had five clear 
lengths at the two-mile, and at the. finish it had 
increased to twenty, while Yale was vainly hit- 
ting up a forty-five. A difference of 1.12 sepa- 
rated the crews in spite of the Harvard time of 
25. 46I, which is the slow record for New London. 
This was the end of Davis and the " Donkey 
Engine Stroke " at Yale. 

It was, however, an era of high strokes, and we 



Collegiate Rowing, iSy^-iSgS 89 

find Pennsylvania rowing forty-four for a time in 
their Childs Cup race with Princeton, and Prince- 
ton, trained by Hosmer, the professional sculler, 
often going to forty. Columbia had withdrawn 
from this four-oared race, and Princeton was the 
only entry with Pennsylvania. For a mile both 
shells lapped, and then Princeton, badly over- 
trained, started to go to pieces, and Howell, who 
had fainted three times the year before when at 
stroke, was again out, and Pennsylvania won by 
a long distance. 

The opening regatta of the Intercollegiate 
Rowing Association on Lake George was set 
for July 4, with Princeton, Cornell, Pennsylvania, 
and Wesleyan represented. Pennsylvania was 
supposed to have the best four, all of the men 
being veterans. A nasty wind blew across the 
course; Cornell, having the sheltered station, 
sportsmanly asked that the race be postponed, 
but Pennsylvania and Wesleyan preferred to row, 
and the crews were sent off. Pennsylvania had 
two lengths over Wesleyan, the second crew, in 
the first half-mile ; but there Cornell came under 
the lee of Tea Island, and the lighter Penn crew, 
unable to buffet the waves, were soon overtaken 
and passed by the more robust Cornell four, who 
kept steadily on and won by sixty-two seconds 
from Pennsylvania, with Princeton a length in 
the wake of Pennsylvania. In the singles, which 



go Rowing 

were rowed on the next day, G. B. Jamison, 
the captain of the Princeton four, beat G. A. E. 
Kohler, Pennsylvania. 

The rowing had now divided into two sections, 
— the Childs Cup and the Intercollegiate Asso- 
ciation for four-oared shells and the New London 
races in eights between the Freshman and Uni- 
versity crews of Harvard and Columbia and the 
University eights of Harvard and Yale. Colum- 
bia also rowed in the I. R. A. in fours, but they 
had withdrawn from the Childs Cup races, and 
in 1884 Cornell was invited to take their place. 
The feeling between the two schools was not 
friendly: Harvard and Yale, with rowing records 
before the others had even purchased a boat, felt 
that they were the leaders of rowing, while the 
others, resting on the results of the old Rowing 
Association, considered that speed was the best 
claim for preeminence and not the accident of 
being first born. Challenges passed to and fro 
from Cornell and Pennsylvania to Yale and to 
Harvard, but they were not taken up, and both 
Yale and Harvard desired to confine rowing to 
themselves, though Harvard was rather more 
liberal and had arranged matches with Columbia ; 
but there was now talk of stopping these. It was 
a curious situation and one brought about by the 
fact that victory was more highly estimated than 
the elevation of the sport. 



Collegiate Rowing, i8j^-i8c}8 91 

The season of 1883 marked the culmination of 
the high-stroke idea, and the defeat of all the 
crews that went to extremes caused a general 
lowering of strokes for 1884. In the previous year 
every crew had gone high, though none quite so 
far as Yale, and in this year the pendulum swung 
far back, and few rowed above forty, even while 
spurting. The strokes generally lengthened, and 
the slide was longer and used to the full extent 
of every man, though Yale, with Cook again in 
charge after the failure of Davis, did not use quite 
their full slide and had a longer body swing ; the 
"leg-of-mutton oars" went to the museums as 
relics of the age of unreason. 

Pennsylvania and Cornell had very evenly 
matched fours this year, and their two contests 
were most exciting. The Penn four — Dicker- 
son, bow, Lindsay, Gray, and Sergeant stroke — 
made a remarkable record ; they were light men, 
and did not average one hundred and sixty pounds, 
yet they won every race that they entered. Penn- 
sylvania and Cornell first met in the Childs Cup 
race, which was rowed on the upper Schuylkill, 
about six miles above the ordinary course, with the 
finish at Flat Rock Dam. Cornell and Pennsyl- 
vania were on opposite sides of the river, with 
Princeton in the centre ; but Princeton soon was 
out of the race by poor steering, and the other 
two kept down so far apart that it was hard 



92 Rowing 

to estimate the leader; as they closed for the 
finish it was seen that Cornell had an advantage, 
but Sergeant sent up the Pennsylvania stroke to 
thirty-nine and brought Penn over with half a 
length to spare. 

This was the first year of Charles E. Courtney 
with the Cornell crews, and Ellis Ward was 
with Pennsylvania, as he had been since the 
start of rowing there. These two men have been 
retained by their respective institutions since 
that time ; a break of a few years occurred in 
the connection of Ward with Pennsylvania, but 
Courtney has been at Ithaca continuously; there 
was not a marked difference in the styles which 
each taught. Cornell had a slightly harder catch 
and did not swing quite so far as Penn, making 
less use of the body and more of the arms, but the 
general features of the two strokes were nearly 
identical. 

Harvard, having beaten Yale for two years, 
thought rather well of themselves in 1884, and 
imagined that their race with Columbia would be 
a procession. Harvard's eight were heavier and 
more mature than usual, but with that innate love 
of novelty that has always marked the Harvard 
rowing, Perkins, the stroke of the previous year, 
was rowing at seven, and Bryant was at stroke. 
Columbia had a light and very young crew, 
which the prophets said could not row four miles. 



Collegiate Rowing, i8y^-i8^8 93 

Harvard started at thirty-eight and Cohimbia at 
forty; for the first part Columbia led, but at the 
mile Harvard had the advantage. All this time 
the Columbia stroke had never dropped below 
thirty-eight ; a fine spurt at the two-mile flags 
brought Columbia even with Harvard. Then the 
greater strength of Harvard, though they were 
rowing a dull, lifeless stroke, took them ahead, 
and coming into the last mile they had a full 
length ; thus it was until the last half-mile, when 
Columbia whipped up their pace to forty, and 
sustaining it for the whole distance, came steadily 
up on Harvard ; but the final effort of Harvard 
was effective, and they retained three-quarters of 
a length of their lead. 

The Harvard coaches believed that the close 
race was due to a poor arrangement of their crew, 
and, though the Yale race was less than a week 
away, they began to make changes : Perkins 
shifted back to stroke, the two bow men were 
changed, and an effort made to put more life into 
the crew. Louis K. Hull, the former Yale cap- 
tain, had been coaching Yale, under the direction 
of Cook, and they had made an entire change 
from the " git thar " stroke to the former style. 
Yale and Harvard rowed nearly the same stroke : 
both long, with more body than slide, and a little 
too much of a heave at the catch to be quite 
smooth; the recovery was moderately slow, but 



94 Rowing 

the pace ran up in the race, and neither crew was 
below thirty-six at any time. It was a hard race, 
fought out in the third mile ; Yale had a length at 
the end of the first mile, but then the boat went 
into the slack water of the east shore, while Har- 
vard was in the full force of the stream, which 
was high and swift ; Harvard went steadily on 
past Yale, whose spurts counted little in the dead 
water. At the Government Dock, Yale began to 
hold their own, though they were ragged, and one 
man caught a crab that gave Harvard a lead of 
three-quarters of a length. On the third mile the 
courses were equal, and Yale went forward like 
an arrow, with a stroke of forty, and at two and a 
half miles they had a full length lead. The race 
was over; Harvard fell back to thirty-four, and 
Yale to thirty-eight, and, adding to their lead, 
at the finish they had easily five lengths. The 
time was 20.31, the fastest that the course had 
ever been made in a race, due to a following wind 
and a fast stream. The Columbia Freshmen beat 
Harvard easily on the same day at New London. 
The Intercollegiate Rowing Association Re- 
gatta brought Bowdoin, in a big Davis shell with 
the two cockpits and ten feet of deck between and 
all the other Davis paraphernalia ; Columbia, with 
a crew made up of the four best men from the 
eight that had rowed at New London ; and the 
three crews that had met at Philadelphia, — 



Collegiate Rowing, i8y^-i8g8 95 

Cornell, Princeton, and Pennsylvania. Saratoga 
had been selected for the race, owing to its fine 
course; but the wind had been high, and from 
Friday until Monday it was a series of postpone- 
ments that racked the oarsmen and put many of 
them off their form, for, with the exception of a 
little row that some of them took on Sunday, none 
had any practice. Once the race had started, it 
was seen to be a contest between Pennsylvania 
and Cornell, who soon forged ahead ; after the 
first half-mile, the boats found rough water, and 
the Cornell men, with a higher boat, went to the 
front and led until well into the last half-mile ; 
in this last half Princeton, ten lengths back of the 
first crews, started a spurt that brought them 
within four lengths of the first crews, Pennsyl- 
vania had been steadily gaining on Cornell, and 
in the last hundred yards were even ; it seemed 
as though it must be a dead heat, neither crew 
could gain, and both were spurting at their top, 
Penn at forty and Cornell at one stroke less. 
Fifteen feet from the line the Penn oars were 
in the water and Cornell were recovering; one 
powerful stroke placed the Pennsylvania shell 
three feet ahead and over the line before the 
force of the Cornell stroke could make up the 
distance. It was one of the closest races that has 
ever been rowed. 

After their many defeats the rowing spirit of 



96 Rowing 

Princeton gradually passed away, and their last 
crew was in 1884; for some years they used the 
boat-house without any regular system, and then 
abandoned rowing. The canal never furnished 
the proper water according to our American idea 
of how much space is necessary, and the passing 
boats and the many low bridges combined to 
increase still further the hazards of the course. 
Princeton won only one race, — a Freshman con- 
test, and the sport was always the butt of the 
student body. 

With Princeton out of the Childs Cup con- 
tests, Pennsylvania invited Bowdoin to come; but 
the distance was too great and 1885 found Cor- 
nell as the only competitor, and they won by 
about a leno-th and a half. This is the final 
contest for the cup in four-oared shells. 

A mysterious revolution had taken place in 
Harvard's rowing under the captaincy of J. J. 
Storrow; Faulkner, the professional sculler of 
Boston, v/as engaged as coach, or as boat rigger, 
or in some other capacity — anyhow, he was with 
the Harvard crews all the year, and the stroke 
was not the stately Bancroft swing. They said 
that the new stroke combined the Bancroft, Per- 
kins, and Curtis strokes, which is certainly hazy 
enough ; but the result was a true professional 
style. The men put their weight on hard at the 
catch, but without a noticeable effort, and the 



Collegiate Rowing, i8j^-i8g8 97 

greater part of the power came in the middle and 
at the finish, while the slide was as fast as possi- 
ble without checking the shell. Above all, they 
looked after the watermanship ; the crew was not 
even in the boat, the backs were not straight and 
constrained as they had been of old, and they had 
little swing ; but the oars took and left the water 
as one, and it is there that the professional coach- 
ing told, and it is this watermanship that made 
the crew fast. 

Harvard started with only one man of the eight 
of the previous year, and the new men were light 
and not strong ; but their perfect watermanship 
brought speed ; rowing from thirty-six to forty, 
they beat Columbia at New London by nearly 
half a mile and found no more trouble with the 
Yale eight that had in it seven of the winning 
crew of the previous year, and Harvard finished 
about a quarter of a mile or more in the van. 
The Harvard Freshmen beat Columbia very 
easily, and all together the Harvard crew seemed 
to be the best that they had yet turned out. 

The race was not without a disagreeable inci- 
dent — Yale and Harvard squabbled nearly every 
year, and on the day before the race Yale pro- 
tested the Harvard stroke, Penrose, because they 
could not find his name in the catalogue ; but 
the mix-up was straightened out, and he went into 
the race. The other trouble was about Faulkner. 



98 Rowing 

Harvard was most secretive ; they would neither 
say that Faulkner was coaching, nor would they 
say that he was not, and the crew always took 
their practice where they could not be observed, 
while absolutely no one was allowed in the 
boat-house. The practical coaching of the crew 
was in his hands, however, just as Davis had pre- 
viously coached Yale, and rather too much was 
made of the mystery. 

The Intercollegiate Regatta, shifted to Lake 
Quinsigamond, ended in a muddle : Columbia 
could not get a four, having taken to eight-oar 
rowing entirely, but Brown came back to the scene 
of their first race, and Bowdoin, Pennsylvania, and 
Cornell again entered. The course had not been 
buoyed off, as it always should be for coxswainless 
crews, and in addition the referee was on an 
old tub that soon lost sight of the crews ; the 
race is decidedly dark, and only the participants 
know the details. Each of the fours was fouled 
and also fouled once or twice; the finish judge 
reported that Cornell had led across the line fif- 
teen feet ahead of Brown, and that Bowdoin was 
third and Pennsylvania fourth. When the referee 
finally reached the finish he was met by protests 
from every crew, which could not be fairly decided 
because no one could say what crews were in 
their own water; as a matter of fact, all of them 
had been out of their courses. The referee heard 



Collegiate Rowing, i8jyi8^8 99 

the testimony and placed Cornell last, Pennsyl- 
vania third, and ordered Brown and Bowdoin to 
row over, although Bowdoin had fouled Pennsyl- 
vania twice. Brown would not row, but they 
changed their minds a couple of weeks later and 
were beaten by Bowdoin. 

Cornell did not have money enough to put a 
crew on the water in 1886 and had to forfeit the 
Childs Cup to Pennsylvania. Yale had at last 
accepted a challenge from Pennsylvania with the 
condition that there should be both University 
and Freshman races, but in the first year Penn- 
sylvania, having previously rowed almost entirely 
in fours, was not prepared to send two eights. 
New London was becoming the centre of rowing, 
Pennsylvania pairing off with Yale and Columbia 
with Harvard, but little love was lost in either 
alliance. The Pennsylvania men had no knowl- 
edge of four-mile rowing in eights, but they were 
anxious to race. Columbia challenged Penn to 
row after the Yale contest, but that date could not 
be accepted, and on the morning of the day before 
the race with Yale, Pennsylvania sent word to 
Columbia that they would row during the after- 
noon, and Columbia as promptly said that they 
were willing. Columbia won by ten lengths, and 
the next day Pennsylvania went against Yale and 
were beaten by nearly a minute ; the initiation of 
the Penn men into four-mile racing was severe 



loo Rowing 

and taught them that their stroke was too short 
for the distance, being better adapted for races 
in fours. 

Columbia followed up the Pennsylvania victory 
by soundly beating Harvard ; the Cambridge 
crew led for the first part of the course, pulling 
the same sort of a stroke that had won for them 
in the previous year with the pace again set by 
Penrose ; but where in the year before they had 
sacrificed their body work for perfect waterman- 
ship, they were this year ragged in time and, of 
course, ineffective. Before the course had been 
half rowed, the unevenness and the high stroke 
had worn out the men, and Columbia passed on 
and won by ten or twelve lengths. Harvard had 
rowed well in 1885, but they quite overdid the 
matter this year, and were choppy and irregular. 

Yale had come up a little in their rowing as 
Harvard went down ; and Harvard also had some 
hard luck ; they lost their boat only a short time 
before the race, and were compelled to use a class 
shell that did not suit them in rigging. And 
Yale won the race by seven lengths, leading all 
the way. 

Yale was admitted to the Freshman race be- 
tween Harvard and Columbia, but the day was 
rough, and they filled at the half-mile and went 
down ; Harvard with the best water won and 
Columbia finished close up. 



Collegiate Rowing, i8jyi8^8 loi 

Six crews entered for the Intercollegiate Re- 
gatta, now on Lake George again ; but Pennsyl- 
vania and Bowdoin were the only fours that came 
to the line. Pennsylvania's stroke oar was unable 
to row, and a substitute had to take his place. 
Bowdoin won in a hard struggle and made the 
mile and one-half in 8.16 — the fastest time for 
Lake George. Fred Plaisted, the professional, 
coached the Maine four. 

College racing had centred about New Lon- 
don, and Cornell was almost without a race ; they 
were still rowing in fours, while eights had become 
the fashion, and the smaller boats were rapidly 
going out. Their four won at the Passaic Regatta, 
and they defeated Bowdoin at Lake Quinsiga- 
mond in the last regatta of the Intercollegiate 
Rowing Association, which had no other entries 
because no one was rowing in the fours; and later 
in the season they were denied a race with Penn- 
sylvania for the Childs Cup on account of the 
sickness of the Pennsylvania stroke oar and the 
lack of a substitute. 

Ellis Ward and Pennsylvania had broken for 
the time, and their crews were in the charge of 
Samuel Powel, Jr., a gentleman who had taken 
great interest in Penn's rowing, and who had 
donated a cup for class crews. In his own row- 
ing he used the long English stroke with a great 
heave at the catch and a very slow slide, but the 



I02 Rowing 

style of the Pennsylvania men was not much 
changed, and they rowed a fairly fast stroke with 
a moderate swing, and most of the power went on 
after the oar was in the water. 

The races at New London were unexceptional : 
Yale kept on rowing in the same way and win- 
ning ; they beat Pennsylvania in both Freshman 
and University races, and won from Harvard with 
nearly the same ease. Columbia gave Harvard 
a very hard rub ; they won the Freshman race, 
and then had an advantage in the University con- 
test when they got into the eel grass ; Harvard 
gained and Columbia was beaten by two lengths. 

Columbia's increasing speed made the race very 
much more than a practice spin for Harvard, and 
after winning they declined to row again with the 
New York men and confined themselves to the 
Freshman contest. The year 1888 was a dull 
one in college aquatics ; with the Harvard race 
off, Columbia did not get out a University eight, 
and Cornell also was without a race and had to 
gun about in the club regattas. They met Penn- 
sylvania in the race for the Downing Cup (four- 
oared shells) at Philadelphia and defeated them, 
but the only college racing was at New London. 

Yale had a magnificent eight physically — just 
the crew that could row the slow, sweeping stroke 
of Cook's to the best advantage. Cross was 
stroking and Hartwell and Corbin were in the 



Collegiate Rowing, i8y^-i8ciS 103 

boat. They attained clean blade work and good 
time, and were not pressed in any race. They 
beat Pennsylvania by forty seconds, and then, go- 
ing against Harvard, had a time trial that made 
a new record of 20.10 for the four miles. Har- 
vard finished about a quarter of a mile back. 

The Harvard committee made another change 
this year in the style, sent Faulkner away, and 
brought in the Bancroft stroke, which was always 
the haven in time of storm. They shortened the 
slides and restored the constrained, rocking-chair 
motions of that famous stroke ; the oarsmen 
clipped their sweep at both ends, the oars de- 
scribing a semicircle, and the Harvard eight 
moved more slowly than any on the river. Co- 
lumbia beat them easily in the Freshman race. 

Cornell had now started eight-oared-shell row- 
ing in earnest, and they and Columbia, both with- 
out a race, agreed to row with Pennsylvania at 
New London, and they also invited Harvard and 
Yale to join with them ; but of course this invi- 
tation was not accepted. Pennsylvania still had 
races with Yale, but these three crews were gain- 
ing in the knowledge of eight-oared rowing, and 
races with them could not be taken as preliminary 
contests. Harvard had already refused to row 
with Columbia, and now Yale, after the race of 
1889, would not again meet Pennsylvania. 

The Pennsylvania- Yale race was a surprise. 



I04 Rowing 

Yale was champion, and the Pennsylvania men 
were quite green ; six of them were Freshmen, 
but in Wright they had a sterling stroke. Tak- 
ing a lead at the start, they hammered away at 
thirty-six for two miles and kept a length ahead ; 
the last two miles evidenced the superior strength 
and experience of the Yale crew, and they pulled 
ahead, winning by a trifle more than a length. 
Pennsylvania won the Freshman race, beating 
Yale for the first time. Ward was again coach- 
ing Pennsylvania and had lengthened out the 
stroke and slowed the slide. 

Cornell won the triangular race ; rough water 
delayed the contest until nearly dark, and the 
crews finished after nightfall, so that no time 
could be taken ; but Cornell won, with Columbia 
second and Pennsylvania last. All the crews 
were fairly close over the full three miles, which 
was the distance rowed. The old rivalry between 
Yale and Cornell now began afresh, for Cornell 
had beaten Pennsylvania in three miles by a 
greater distance than Yale had in four, and 
claimed to be faster than Yale ; but there was no 
chance to settle the matter. Yale and Cornell 
were in quite different schools of rowing. Cor- 
nell, under Courtney, had already developed the 
style that kept winning for some years. It was a 
short, fast stroke that had little swing; the work 
was done with the arms and the legs, and the 



Collegiate Rowing, 18^^-18^8 105 

pace ran up to forty-four and forty-five, while it 
was never below thirty-eight. The oars went in 
and out in perfect jabs, yet the boat moved fast — 
no one questioned that, 

Yale had another procession with Harvard, and 
the Harvard Freshman eight won from Columbia. 
After the New London races, Cornell went down 
to Philadelphia with Pennsylvania and won the 
Sharpless Cup for eights, and then beat Pennsyl- 
vania by less than half a length for the Childs 
Cup, which for the first time was contested in 
eights. The race was on a freshet, and Cornell 
made the mile and a half in 6.40, which is a 
world's record for the distance. 

There was a deal of talk concerning the 
respective merits of the college and the club 
eights, and in several trials the college men won. 
Some years before the University crews were dis- 
tinctly inferior to the best of the rowing clubs, 
especially over the shorter distances, and the 
fastest college fours could never compare with 
the winning club fours. The Atalanta eight 
of New York was the champion club eight, the 
winners of the event in the National Association 
of American Oarsmen, while Yale claimed to be 
the champion college eight, though this was dis- 
puted by Cornell. A race was arranged between 
Yale and the Atalanta men over a four-mile 
course in New Haven harbor, and a most re- 



io6 Rowing 

markable contest resulted : Yale took a lead from 
the start, and at the two-mile mark, rowing from 
two to three strokes slower than their competi- 
tors, were six lengths ahead. Hardly had the 
shell crossed the flags when the oar of Allen, the 
Yale stroke, broke. In an instant he dived out of 
the boat, and the crew kept on their apparently 
hopeless journey, with Ives, the No. 7, setting the 
stroke. Atalanta came up length by length, but 
then the Yale men grew accustomed to the new 
order and began to hold their distance and then 
to increase it, finally winning by eight lengths. 
The Atalanta eight were thought to have been 
at a disadvantage in the long race, but a few days 
later Pennsylvania met them in the Harlem Re- 
gatta and defeated them easily. Bowdoin, now 
rowing in an eight, defeated the Boston Athletic 
Association at Boston on the same day, and all 
together it was the college man's year. 

The rowing was all about New London this 
year, and the University crews kept in their 
schools; but the Freshmen met, and the races 
were in favor of the younger crews. Cornell was 
let into a race between the Freshmen of Yale and 
Columbia, and won by a couple of lengths. Yale 
finished second ; then Columbia beat the Har- 
vard Freshmen. Columbia did not have a Uni- 
versity eight, and the race was between only 
Pennsylvania and Cornell. Cornell won by nine- 



Collegiate Rowing, i8j<y-i8^S 107 

teen seconds, making a new world's record of 
14.43 ^o^ three miles. Yale did not have much 
of a struggle with Harvard, and won without 
exertion by eleven seconds. 

It seemed as though the Harvard lights of 
rowing had been snuffed. Yale had won five 
straight years, and in seven years Harvard had 
but one victory. Yale, though they would not 
row with Cornell, sought a race with Oxford to 
decide the championship. The race was arranged, 
conditioned upon Yale again beating Harvard, 
and this is the reason that it was not rowed. 
Harvard had another revolution and turned out 
a crew of new men that rowed down Yale and 
won by over half a minute. 

Cornell was barred from the Yale-Columbia 
Freshman race, and Harvard took their place, 
starting the series of Freshman races between 
these three institutions that lasted for a number 
of years. There was no real reason why Cornell 
should have been shut out from this race, because 
no sentiment clustered around the Freshman 
contest. Harvard had been rowing with Colum- 
bia and Yale with Pennsylvania, and the only 
conclusion that can be reached is — Cornell was 
too fast. The Cornell Freshmen are usually 
older than those of the other colleges, and they 
undoubtedly have an advantage in their more 
mature men. Columbia won from the Freshmen 



io8 Row/'m 



<s 



of Harvard and Yale, and then Cornell beat 
Columbia. 

Cornell again won the triangular race, an5 again 
gave new figures for three miles in a shell, reduc- 
ing their former world's record to 14.27^; Penn- 
sylvania was second and Columbia third. 

After this race began some talk about re- 
forming the dead Intercollegiate Rowing Asso- 
ciation with Pennsylvania, Cornell, Columbia, 
and Bowdoin as members, and giving an annual 
regatta somewhere on the Hudson ; but it was 
evidently not time for this movement, and the 
project held over. But New London had passed 
out of the rowing world so far as these colleges 
were concerned. Columbia still continued to row 
in the Freshman eights with Yale and Harvard, 
but the University crews of these institutions had 
no outside races. In fact, rowing v/as in a bad 
way ; continual beatings had taken away much 
of the interest at Harvard, and too much win- 
ning had prevented any improvement at Yale. 
Cornell could not find an eight that could make 
them a hard race, and the foreknowledge of being 
beaten was killing the sport at Pennsylvania and 
Columbia. There was a crying need for a stir- 
ring competition that would bring out ideas ; in- 
stead, came bickerings between Cornell and Yale, 
and a general lack of interest elsewhere. Yale 
and Cornell kept to their same styles. Penn- 



Collegiate Rowing, i8y^-i8g8 109 

sylvania had parted with Ward again and were 
being coached by George W. Woodruff, a former 
Yale oar, into a way of rowing that bore marks 
of the Cook stroke. Harvard tried something 
new each year, and always delayed selecting 
their crew until so late that they never came to 
New London well too^ether. The Bancroft stroke 
was most in favor, but that which defeated the 
crews was not so much their stroke, though the 
men were hampered by being all forced into 
the one mould ; but it was the delay in the selec- 
tion of the crew, and the changes made at times 
when the eight should have been picked, and 
taking long rows to perfect their time. Har- 
vard seldom put on their strength effectively, 
and of course they lost. Yale won every race, 
starting with 1892, down to 1895, and in the 
closest race they had eighteen seconds. The 
Freshman races were closer, though Yale won 
all of them. Columbia was second from 1892 
to 1894, and in 1895 Harvard gained the second 
place. 

With plenty of water to choose from, Cornell 
and Pennsylvania could not find any place where 
they cared to row. Columbia concentrated on the 
Freshman race at New London, and they did not 
have a University eight in outside competition. 
In 1892 Penn rowed three miles at Ithaca, and 
Cornell won by seventeen seconds, and the Cornell 



no Rowing 

Freshmen beat the Columbia Freshmen. In the 
following year, Cornell and Pennsylvania started 
on a kind of boomer trip and rowed their race out 
on Lake Minnetonka, partly to help a town near 
Minneapolis, and partly because every one liked 
the journey; there was no earthly reason why 
the crews should have gone such a distance for 
a simple affair like a boat race. It was a four- 
mile race, and Cornell won by two lengths. The 
Cornell Freshmen went over to New London and 
beat Columbia. The 1894 contest was again four 
miles, and this time it was brought clown to the 
Delaware River at Torresdale above Philadelphia, 
in the hope of stimulating boating at Pennsylvania. 
It was a spirited race, and Cornell won by three 
lengths. The Cornell-Columbia Freshman races 
had dropped off, and the first-year men had to 
race with a club crew at Ithaca. 

The season of 1895 is the turning-point in 
American rowing. Yale and Harvard at Nev/ 
London had their race, and Columbia was in the 
Freshman race ; but there was no disposition 
among the Thames oarsmen to help along col- 
lege rowing in general, and, in fact, they rather 
tended to discourage the other universities in the 
support of their crews. The only incentive to 
any undergraduate sport is competition, and Vv^ith- 
out a race an university will not row ; we do not 
row much for pleasure in our colleges — it is all 



Collegiate Rowing, i8j^-i8^8 



I II 



to beat some one, and a sport without an end can 
never prosper. Cornell, Columbia, and Pennsyl- 
vania, since leaving New London, where they 
were not wanted, had drifted about from here 
to there; but in 1895 they revived the old tri- 
angular agreement, and fixed on the fine stretch 
of the Hudson at Poughkeepsie, New York, 
as a course for their race. The four miles is 
quite straight, and the river so wide that a 
score or more of eights may row in the same 
race without crowding ; it is the course for the 
world to row upon, and the three universities 
let it be known that the world might row with 
them. 

Cornell, with a considerable line of victories, 
had been looking toward Henley, and though 
they entered willingly into the Hudson River 
compact, they at the same time determined to 
have an eight for the Grand Challenge Cup, 
which, since University rowing had gone from 
fours and sixes into eights, was the only event 
that could be thought about, and at the same time 
it is the trophy of highest import in the rowing 
world. The entry was accepted, and the crew 
went into practice at Henley, choosing a house 
near the river. The Englishmen did not like 
their style, and said that all the rowing was 
done with the arms ; but as a matter of fact it 
was nearly all done with the legs, and the British 



1 1 2 Rowing 

reasoned that, since there was little or no body 
swing, the power must come from the arms. They 
rowed a stroke anywhere from forty-three to forty- 
eight, with a piston-rod action, but they were well 
together, and in the trials on the course made 
7.04. As the race came on the men began to 
fall off in condition either because of the climate 
or because of too much work, or more probably 
on account of the combination, and several of 
them were scarcely fit to row by the day of the 
race. 

Leander fell to Cornell for the first day, and 
their crew was picked to represent the best row- 
ing of Oxford and Cambridge, and was undoubt- 
edly a fast eight and the one to be most feared 
in the regatta. Both crews received their warn- 
ings of the start, and when the word was given, 
Cornell heard it and took the water, but Leander 
did not and remained at the stakes. It would 
have been more sportsmanlike for Cornell to have 
stopped and taken a fresh start, but they chose 
to follow the letter of the laws of boat racing and 
had a row over. They afterward offered to row 
again with Leander, but the invitation was not 
taken. On the next day Cornell met Trinity 
Hall (Cambridge). Cornell began at forty-six and 
Trinity at forty-two, and for the first half of the 
course they steadily gained, and at Fawley Court 
had three-quarters of a length. Trinity then 



Collegiate Rowing, i8j^-i8g8 113 

began to come up ; the distance gradually les- 
sened until the two eights were even ; at the 
Isthmian boat-house the Trinity bow went ahead. 
Cornell was done ; they broke all at once ; the 
oars were out of time, the bodies unsteady, and 
finally they stopped rowing. Trinity won in 
7.15, and later won the cup.^ 

Cornell was in a miserable physical condition 
when they went into the race, and it is not sur- 
prising that they lost, though it is doubtful if 
the crew could have beaten Leander, just as 
there is no doubt but that they could have easily 
whipped Trinity Hall had they been able to row 
the full distance at their best. 

The worst feature of the trip, however, was the 
conduct of the Cornell men, who 2;ave sufficient 
cause for that criticism which the English press 
is so ready to start upon. It seems that Cornell 
did shamefully violate the traditions of the course ; 
much that was said of them was true, and it 
was not softened by their conduct in claiming 
the first race in a decidedly professional manner. 
Henley combines the life of a gentleman with 
that of an athlete, while we have here the idea 
that the final training for a race is a most serious 
business to be treated with the utmost gravity, 

^ The crew of Cornell sat: F. B. Matthews, bow; E. O. Spill- 
man, E. C. Hager, F. W. Freeborn, T. F. Fennell, G. P. Dyer, 
C. A. Louis, T. Hall, stroke ; F. D. Colson, coxswain. 
I 



114 Rowing 

and that a decent show of courtesy, or even a 
passably good and quite innocent time, will ruin 
the speed of the crew. It is enough to say that 
Cornell followed the American idea. 

The first of the Poughkeepsie races was not 
encouraging; the contest did not take place 
on the day set because of an accident to the 
Pennsylvania shell, and they were forced to put 
a heavy crew into a shell intended for a much 
lighter one. The race day was far better suited 
for yacht racing than light ship rowing. The 
referee should never have started the boats away, 
but they battled the waves bravely. Pennsyl- 
vania led until their shell filled with water and 
started to go down ; still the eight men kept 
on rowing with the entire boat submerged, and 
only when it was impossible to keep moving did 
they stop and allow themselves to be picked up. 
Cornell, a second crew, the first being abroad, 
had almost as much trouble, and Columbia, with 
a bigger boat than the others, managed to keep 
afloat, and won. Cornell swamped just as they 
crossed the line. A race has seldom been rowed 
under greater difficulties, and nearly all the oars- 
men had their hands badly cut and legs bruised 
trying to get the oars out of the water on the 
recovery. Columbia had a big, heavy crew that 
rowed a long, slow swing which was effective 
under the conditions. The Colum.bia Freshmen 



Collegiate Rowing, iSj^-i8g8 115 

rowed with Yale and Harvard at New London, 
and the Freshmen crews of Cornell and Pennsyl- 
vania raced at Ithaca, Cornell winning. 

A foot-ball squabble stopped all athletic con- 
tests between Yale and Harvard, and broke 
up their boat race for 1896; Harvard at once 
entered into a two-year agreement to row with 
Cornell at Poughkeepsie. Yale had no race, 
and rather than acknowledge that the quarrel 
was really of moment, they entered for the Grand 
Challenge, where they could do no less than 
Cornell had done, and might have a chance to 
win much honor. 

The record of Yale at Henley was somewhat 
better than that of Cornell. Cook coached the 
crew, and on account of his previous visit to 
England to learn the principles of rowing, the 
entry of Yale excited much interest among 
the English oarsmen, who expected to see 
their own stroke coming from abroad. But 
their comments were not favorable, and all 
thought that Yale was rowing more like Cor- 
nell than any English crew, and that the 
legs and arms were of more prominence than 
the backs. The crew was a fairly fast one, but 
they, like Cornell, took quarters in the low 
Thames valley near the river, and by the race 
time some of the oarsmen were considerably off 
condition and had not their accustomed endur- 



ii6 Rowing 

ance, and at the same time the eight was made 
up rather heavily for a spurting race. 

After watching the English crews for a time, 
Cook saw what he believed to be faults in the 
Yale style and made the very grave mistake of 
trying to change the methods in the last few 
weeks, and also experimented with English oars, 
taking the whimsical view, held by many at the 
time, that the dead water of the Henley course 
requires a narrow blade. These changes, made 
when all the energy should have been devoted 
to whipping the eight into the perfection of the 
style that they had been taught, could not but 
shake the crew, and they went into the race 
scarcely knowing what style they were rowing. 

Yale, like Cornell, drew Leander for the first 
heat, and it was a very good Leander eight that 
the club had put out under the captaincy of Guy 
Nickalls, who had selected Harcourt Gold, the 
famous Oxford stroke, for the critical seat. Yale 
made a hard fight to Fawley Court, but then, 
like Cornell, they began to give out, and Leander 
took a slight lead which they did not attempt to 
increase. The Yale men, though several were 
nearly out, rowed sturdily, and finished a couple 
of lengths behind Leander, who rowed in 7.14. 
Leander won the cup eventually. 

Yale sent a powerful and what should have been 
a fast eight to Henley, barring rather too much 



Collegiate Rowing, i8y^-i8g8 117 

weight; but the eleventh-hour changes of Cook 
and a lax training took away all chance of winning.^ 

And now begins the era in our strokes which 
may be called the English period, and during 
which time the English principles were more in 
force than at any previous season ; the influence 
remained for several years and undoubtedly 
exercised a most beneficial effect upon our 
rowing, although, like all ideas in rowing that 
win, it was carried to a point of absurdity. Court- 
ney of Cornell came home with an entirely new 
notion of rowing and at once proceeded to make 
changes in the stroke of the Cornell crews ; the 
short pump-handle stroke that had no swing was 
put by, and he evolved a stroke that resembled in 
some respects the style that then obtained on the 
other side of the water, just as Cook had made 
his improvisions back in the seventies. Courtney 
brought in a long reach and a very hard catch 
that nearly resulted in a jerk at the beginning ; 
the slide was cut down to seventeen inches, and 
the finish was well back. It was a remarkable 
change from the stroke of the previous years, and 
the rate reduced from the forties to thirty -four 
and thirty-six and lower. 

Harvard joined Cornell, Pennsylvania, and 

1 The Yale crew were: J. H. Simpson, bow; A. Brown, W. M. 
Beard, J. O. Rodgers, P. H. Bailey, J. M. Longacre, R. B. Tread- 
way, G. Langford, stroke ; T. L. Clarke, coxswain. 



1 1 8 Rowing 

Columbia at Poughkeepsie. G. S. Mumford, an 
oar of the previous decade, coached Harvard, and 
Pennsylvania had Ellis Ward, the rowing advisers 
not having taken to the methods of Woodruff. 
Columbia had seven of the winning boat of the 
previous year and were again partly in the charge 
of Dr. Walter Peet. 

Cornell, with the new stroke set by little Briggs, 
who weighed less than one hundred and forty 
pounds, won the University race in the third mile 
and made the four miles faster than it had yet 
been done in competition on any course, — 19.29. 
The timers, however, had become confused, and 
there is no certainty that this time is correct; 
most of the unofhcial watches made it much 
slower. Harvard and Pennsylvania disputed 
Cornell for a mile, then Pennsylvania fell behind 
a little, and Harvard fought with Cornell until the 
second mile, when Cornell threw them off and 
entered the third mile a certain winner, with 
Harvard, in 'very bad condition and closely pressed 
by Pennsylvania, who were in the wash of the 
leaders. Cornell won by three lengths from 
Harvard, and they had a length of open water 
on Pennsylvania. Columbia's beefy eight was 
nearly half a mile back. The Freshman race 
finished in the same order, having been rowed 
some days before, bat it was a stiff contest 
between Cornell, Harvard, and Pennsylvania. 



Collegiate Rowing, i8jyi8^8 119 

The University of Wisconsin had been rowing 
in a more or less spasmodic way since the early 
nineties, and now that the Yale Freshmen had no 
race, a match was made between the University 
eight from Wisconsin and the Yale Freshmen on 
Lake Saltonstall. The Western men were big 
and strong, and they rowed away from Yale, win- 
ning the two-mile race by nearly half a minute. 

Yale came back from Henley ; their tiff wath 
Harvard smoothed over, and the annual boat 
race was a certainty except that Harvard had 
the agreement wdth Cornell to row for another 
year, and this they would not break. Yale 
did not want to meet Cornell, and they did not 
care to row on the Hudson; while Cornell, with 
the race with Pennsylvania and Columbia also 
on hand, would not go to New London. Things 
were badly mixed for a while, until finally Yale 
agreed to accept an invitation for a three-cor- 
nered race on the Hudson, and Cornell sent the 
invitation. There exists no clear reason why 
Pennsylvania and Columbia could not have 
rowed in the same race ; but Yale would not have 
it that way, and Cornell was foolish enough to 
agree to row two four-mile races and likewise 
two Freshman races on the Hudson. 

R. C. Watson, the Harvard oarsman and coach, 
had consented to coach Harvard, but in this last 
year he went to England to study at first hand 



I20 Rowing 

the principles of English rowing, which had 
proved so successful with Cornell Instead of 
coming back with his own ideas and putting 
them into practice, he was able to have R. C. 
Lehmann, one of the leaders in English rowing 
and a gentleman of wide experience both as an 
oarsman at Oxford and as a coach, come to Bos- 
ton and assume the burden of making a Harvard 
eight row well. The visit was one of the high- 
est import to Harvard, and though not of 
particular note throughout the country, added 
a distinctly better tone to rowing. Mr. Leh- 
mann brought with him Eno-lish methods in 
their entirety and was given full charge. He 
made a trip ovCr in the fall of 1896 and started 
the training, while other English oars came 
during his absence and continued the work. 
The service was absolutely gratuitous and under- 
taken wholly for the love of the sport. 

Harvard was taught the English university 
stroke. The slides were cut down to sixteen 
inches, the swing was long and hard, or intended 
to be hard, and the legs helped the finish in- 
stead of the centre of the stroke — the radical 
difference between the general styles of the twp 
countries and something which no American 
coach had yet attempted to teach. Cornell had 
used a short slide, but they had started the legs 
when the body reached the perpendicular instead 



Collegiate Rowing, iSy^-i8^8 



121 



of after it had passed, as in the English stroke, and 
by which the shde is made a part of the finish. 
Yale, too, came back from Henley with the Eng- 
lish theories, and the British period was in full 
swing. The newspapers were filled with discus- 
sions of stroke, and in the argument the actual 
teaching was quite ignored. 

The University of Wisconsin, encouraged by 
their success with the Yale Freshmen in the pre- 
vious year, came on again late in May of 1897 to 
try the Yale University eight on Lake Saltonstall. 
The race was close and hard for the full two miles, 
and Yale won by only ten seconds ; Wisconsin 
had improved their time a full minute over their 
performance of the previous year. 

The rowing had now centred at Poughkeepsie, 
and New London, for the time, was deserted ; if 
ever the old open college regattas were to be re- 
vived, this was the time, when every rowing uni- 
versity of importance had their squads along the 
banks of the Hudson. But petty college politics 
interfered, and there were two races. The first 
race brought together Harvard, Cornell, and Yale 
— exponents of the English idea in various de- 
grees. And, as might have been expected, the 
crew won that had made their changes the more 
gradually, and kept parts of the older style. Cor- 
nell won, Yale was second, and Harvard third. 
Cornell had been rowing their new stroke for two 



122 Rowing 



t> 



years, and though this 1897 stroke differed from 
that of the previous year and came a Httle nearer to 
the Enghsh swing, the change had not been sud- 
den. Yale had taken a great deal from the English 
system, but still retained something of her own. 
Harvard had made a complete change, and they 
failed miserably because men whose former swing 
had been fairly long, but not hard, could not learn 
in a year to swing both long and hard, and it is 
not suiprising that they finished a bad third and 
almost fainting. 

Six days later, Cornell went into the second race, 
meeting Columbia, rowing in a style that had the 
elements of nearly every style, and Penn, rowing 
the same stroke as previously with perhaps a trifle 
more swing. Cornell won from Columbia, and 
Pennsylvania swamped, so that a real test of style 
was impossible. Yale won one Freshman race and 
Cornell the other. The swamping of Pennsyl- 
vania removed the only "long-slide " eight from 
the race, and the Columbia style -was quite too 
mixed to admit of classification. 

The Harvard-Cornell agreement ended; Yale 
and Harvard hied back to New London and ex- 
tended an invitation to Cornell to send both of 
her eights to the Thames and further to test the 
newer ideas of rowing, for all three crews kept 
the same systems. Mr. Lehmann at Harvard had 
the chance of a year to bring the men up to the 



Collegiate Rowing, i8jyi8g8 123 

stroke, and while he was not at Cambridge during 
the whole time, he had able substitutes in other 
English university oars. Mr. Cook spent the win- 
ter and spring in New Haven, and Courtney was, 
of course, at Cornell. Cornell's victory in the 
University eights was even more impressive than 
in the previous year ; for a few lengths Yale 
pushed ahead, but then Cornell swung out after 
them, took the lead, and the race was settled. 
Cornell won by five lengths, Yale was second, and 
Harvard trailed eight or tQi\ lengths behind Yale. 
Cornell finished quite fresh, while Yale, and es- 
pecially Harvard, were much distressed. 

Through the efforts of Professor Benjamin Ide 
Wheeler of Cornell, a man who had worked 
steadily for the advancement of rowing. Dr. Louis 
L. Seaman of Cornell presented a cup of hand- 
some workmanship for annual competition in uni- 
versity eights, and since no body existed which 
might hold this trophy, the races between Cornell, 
Pennsylvania, and Columbia being merely on an 
agreement, it was decided to form a new Inter- 
collegiate Rowing Association and put the races 
on a firm basis. Accordingly, the present rowing 
association formed for the purpose of holding an 
annual intercollegiate regatta. The incorporating 
members were the Columbia University Rowing 
Club, the Athletic Association of the University 
of Pennsylvania, and the Athletic Association 



1 24 Rowing 

of Cornell University, and the entire management 
was vested in a Board of Stewards composed of 
one representative from each of the members ; the 
first Stewards were Benjamin Ide Wheeler, Cor- 
nell ; Francis S. Bangs, Columbia ; and Thomas 
Reath, Pennsylvania. The races of the associa- 
tion were opened to the collegiate world, and 
any college crew, that satisfied the Stewards 
of their eligibility, might row ; but the policy 
has been to restrict the actual membership to 
the three incorporators, and thus keep the ex- 
ecutive from becoming unwieldy. Pennsylvania, 
because their crew had swamped two years out 
of three at Poughkeepsie, desired to leave the 
Hudson, and the opening regatta of the new asso- 
ciation went to the scene of the greatest college 
races — Lake Saratoga, and the distance reduced 
to three miles from four. Three miles of a lake is 
nearly equal in point of exertion to four miles on 
the tideway. Wisconsin took advantage of the 
new open regatta to enter their University eight, 
which arrived only a couple of days before the 
races. Cornell brought up the eight from New 
London that had beaten Yale and Harvard so 
easily, and which was thought to be the certain 
winner of the race. Pennsylvania had nearly a 
new crew ; only one man in the boat had ever 
been in a University race, and most of the men 
were in their first year of rowing. The stroke, 



Collegiate Rowing, i8j^-i8^8 125 

J. P. Gardiner, a Freshman, had never stroked a 
crew before. They were rowing the same stroke 
as in previous years, and Wisconsin had also the 
long slide, though, under Andrew O'Dea, an Aus- 
tralian professional, their stroke belonged to no 
distinct class. The race was to be a test of the two 
systems, that of Cornell and that of Pennsylvania. 
Pennsylvania won ; Wisconsin cut out a ter- 
rific pace for two miles, making the first in five 
minutes flat ; Columbia was second ; Cornell 
third, and Pennsylvania last. Then Pennsylva- 
nia started forward, taking Cornell along, and 
Penn went into the lead on the third mile with 
Wisconsin still second. The hard rowing had 
killed Wisconsin, and on the last half-mile, Cor- 
nell passed them and started after Penn ; but 
Pennsylvania was fresher than any other crew, and 
as Cornell spurted, so did Gardiner, and increased 
the lead. Penn won by three or four lengths 
from Cornell, who led Wisconsin by rather more 
than a length ; Columbia was last. The time of 
Pennsylvania — 15-51 J — is the fastest that an 
eight has ever gone on three miles of dead 
water, while Cornell also rowed faster than before, 
and apparently did not suffer in the least from 
their race of the previous week at New London. 
Cornell crews had been rowing two big races for 
three years without harm, and the men were in 
excellent condition for this race. 



126 Rowing 

The race demonstrated that the quasi-English 
style of Cornell was wrong, and, like the Yale 
style of the same time, was an unhappy combi- 
nation of the two systems that could only result 
in failure when the crew was pitted against one 
where the style was logical and a direct applica- 
tion of the basic principles of the stroke. Penn- 
sylvania had developed on the long slide and 
rowed that stroke entirely. Cornell had adopted 
a slide a little lonQ-er than that of tlie EnHish, and 
a swing rather shorter and without that actual 
power which the true English swing possesses ; 
or, in other words, they cut down the force-giving 
elements of each stroke and combined them in 
one weak effort that did and must have failed. 
Yale was in a position exactly similar to that of 
Cornell, and Cook's experiments were likevv^ise 
faulty. Harvard's rowing under Lehmann, so far 
as speed is concerned, was a failure ; in the point 
of interest and real pleasurable exercise there was 
a vast improvement. 

After the season of 189S the two rowing 
cliques — the Hudson and the Thames — sepa- 
rated sharply, and from this point there is noth- 
ing in common between the two schools, and they 
may be treated separately. 



CHAPTER IV 

THE INTERCOLLEGIATE ROWING ASSOCIATION 

The inconvenience of Saratoga as a regatta 
course, and the fact that rough water caused the 
postponement of the University race for a day 
and the Freshman race for two days, gave the 
Stewards sufficient reason for taking the races 
back to Poughkeepsie, where the course was 
ready of access, and where smooth water was 
quite as certain as at Saratoga or on any other 
four-mile stretch. And since then these races 
have been identified with Poughkeepsie, and it 
is not hkely that they will be moved. 

With the formation of the association came 

a plan for the extension of college rowing and 

the interesting of more men by placing new 

races on the programme. In 1899 a second-crew 

race was added, in which men who had never 

sat in a University eight at Poughkeepsie might 

row, and in this way provide a race for those who 

did not make the first crew. This race, in the first 

year, was between Cornell and Pennsylvania, and 

it was agreed that it should be held alternately at 

127 



128 Rowing 

Ithaca and Philadelphia. In the next year Colum- 
bia entered, when the race was at Philadelphia, 
and although Cornell would not consent to going 
to the Harlem course, the three crews had repre- 
sentatives in the event until 1904, when the 
Stewards merged it with the American Rowing 
Association Regatta, and only Pennsylvania sent 
an entry. Cornell also gave a regatta annually 
on Decoration Day at Ithaca, in which a club 
crew from Harvard, or one of the second crews, 
if the second-crew race happened to be at Ithaca, 
participated. 

In 1899 Davidson Kennedy of Pennsylvania 
gave a trophy for annual competition in four- 
oared shells without coxswains, and this race, 
rowed by the substitutes of the eight, has been 
a most interesting feature of the regattas. And 
in 1900 Mr. Francis S. Bangs of Columbia pre- 
sented the Steward's Cup for Freshman eights, 
completing the list of trophies. All the cups 
are perpetual. 

The races of 1899 brought out a most stirring 
contest in the eights between Pennsylvania and 
Wisconsin. Cornell had a poor eight, rowing in 
exaggerated fashion, and after a couple of miles 
the contest narrowed down to Pennsylvania and 
Wisconsin. The Western eight had gone away 
at thirty-six, and no one had paid much attention 
to them, believing that they would soon come 



The Intercollegiate Rowing Association 129 

back. But instead of going to pieces, Wisconsin 
kept plugging away ; and when, at the bridge, 
Pennsylvania had disposed of Cornell, Wisconsin 
was three lengths in the lead, and with only a 
mile to go. Then Gardiner took the Pennsyl- 
vania eight on what was perhaps the greatest 
spurt ever made in rowing, and certainly in four- 
mile racing. The stroke went up to thirty-eight, 
but Wisconsin's lead could not be cut down — they 
were going as strongly as before, and looked like 
certain winners. But then the Penn shell began 
to gain, almost imperceptibly, and then faster and 
faster the distance decreased until the Pennsyl- 
vania bow had passed the Wisconsin stern, and 
was going ahead with a clean, hard stroke that 
gained in power every moment. Wisconsin 
struggled hard and kept up their stroke, but all 
the men were not equal to the test ; two oars 
began to weaken ; the boat swung in spite of the 
coxswain's rudder. In short, Wisconsin was done 
after their brave fight, and Pennsylvania went on 
as they had come up, and won by a length ; Cor- 
nell was nearly three lengths in the stern of Wis- 
consin. A ridiculous story came out several days 
after the race that Wisconsin had met a berry 
crate in their course, and that the deviation of the 
coxswain was due to a desire to avoid a collision ; 
but after the race no member of the Wisconsin 
crew nor the coxswain knew of the obstacle, 



1 30 Rowing 

nor was the crate seen from the referee's boat 
or by any of the launches ; the whole story was 
made by a newspaper man to give color to the 
race and to account for the swerve of the shell, 
which was, of course, due only to the unfortunate 
collapse of the two men. A berry crate was 
found floating above the bridge and some fifty 
feet out of the course of any crew. Columbia's 
University crew was poor, but the Freshmen 
were fast and were beaten by only five seconds 
by Cornell ; Pennsylvania won the fours easily. 
Cornell, with the ineffective stroke, kept going 
down, and in 1900 did not win a race; Pennsyl- 
vania was coming up. They first won the second 
crew race on the Schuylkill, then took the four at 
Poughkeepsie, Cornell collapsing and Columbia 
getting second, and finally beat Cornell in a close 
finish in the Freshman race. Wisconsin sent 
on eights for both races, and their exceptional 
Freshman eight won very easily. The Univer- 
sity eights gave another hard and fast contest 
between Wisconsin and Pennsylvania. Cornell 
led for a couple of miles, but then Wisconsin 
went ahead and Pennsylvania passed Cornell ; 
at three miles Pennsylvania had three-quarters of 
a length over Wisconsin and Cornell started to go 
in the air; a couple of the men caught crabs. 
There were two races, — one between Penn and 
Wisconsin for first, and another between Cornell 



The Intercollegiate Rowing Association 131 

and Columbia for third. Coming into the last 
half-mile, Penn had a lead of a full length when 
suddenly No. 3 caught a crab that threw him 
on his back while the oar whizzed over his head 
and jammed in the lock ; Wisconsin saw the 
trouble and spurted ; it looked as though Penn- 
sylvania had lost. But the crew kept on row- 
ing, and in an incredibly short time the oarsman 
had freed his oar and was in the swing once more. 
Wisconsin had gained a full length, but with 
twenty mighty strokes Penn had their shell in the 
lead again and won by three-quarters of a length. 
These two races, 1899 and 1900, are the closest 
four-mile contests that have ever taken place in 
this country, and served to shatter the notion that 
a four-mile race is won or lost in the third mile. 
Pennsylvania, with three straight victories in 
the intercollegiate races, became the logical can- 
didate for the Grand Challenge at Henley, and 
their entry was given and accepted. The crew 
had Gardiner, the stroke of the eight during the 
three years of victory, and better than whom there 
have been none, and five of the men had rowed in 
winning boats ; of the other three, one man was a 
Freshman and the other two were Sophomores. 
The average weight was about one hundred and 
sixty pounds. Ellis Ward coached them, as he 
had all of the crews since his return in 1897, and 
the crew kept the same stroke that they had rowed 



132 Rowing 

through the four-mile races, except that where 
they had rowed thirty-three and thirty-four in the 
four-mile race, they raised the stroke to thirty-six 
and thirty-eight in the short Henley stretch. 

The managers wisely chose an inn on Remen- 
ham Hill, about a mile from the river, for the 
quarters, and thus escaped the enervating valley 
which had so affected Cornell and Yale. The 
crew went into regatta week in most excellent 
condition. For the first day they drew the 
London Rowing Club and won without effort 
in 7.0 1 1", — faster time than any American crew 
had made ; the Thames Rowing Club was the 
second opponent, and they were easily beaten, 
Pennsylvania having a full length at the start and 
easing down after a lead of several lengths had 
been gained. Thus they were in the finals against 
Leander. The Leander Club had selected the 
best eight possible, and not a single undergraduate 
from either university was able to make the crew 
which contained such sterling oars as C. D. Bur- 
nell, the strongest sweep . in England, Dudley 
Ward, C. J. D. Goldie, Etherington-Smith, and 
other men as well known. They had beaten 
New College and a crew from Ghent in their 
trials without trouble. For the first time in his- 
tory the betting people were holding a foreign 
crew even with Leander. 

The final heat for the Grand gave a glorious 



The I liter collegiate Rowing Association 133 

struggle, but the superior power of the English 
crew or their better rowing, or both, brought 
them victory. Pennsylvania had a couple of feet 
the best of the start, and down to Fawley Court 
had their bow perhaps five feet ahead of Leander ; 
it was a succession of spurts by both crews, and 
neither rowed below thirty-six at any time. At 
Phyllis Court it was the same. Neither crew could 
gain an advantage for more than a moment; one 
spurt balanced the other. Just below Phyllis 
Court Leander put on all their power and gained 
a length before Pennsylvania could respond, and 
this advantage gave the Englishmen the race. 
Gardiner raised the stroke again and again, but 
not until the last hundred yards could a gain be 
made ; then Pennsylvania crept up inch by inch, 
and the boats went over the finish with the Penn 
bow at the Leander coxswain. Both crews were 
absolutely rowed out at the finish, and although 
the time — 7.04|- — was not as fast as Pennsylvania 
had made the course, yet there was a head wind 
that more than accounted for the difference. It 
was a grand race, and the closest, hardest battle 
that England ever made to keep the cup at home. 
While at practice on the course, Pennsylvania, 
profiting by the experience of the other Ameri- 
can crews, was very careful to do all of their 
fast work in the most open manner, and gave 
out the time of every trial. Indeed, there was 



1 34 Rowing 

not the least criticism of their actions, but, in the 
way of a diversion, a movement was set on foot 
by the " Little Englanders," headed by Dr. Warre 
and Mr. Lehmann, to close the regatta to foreign 
crews ; it met with strong opposition from the 
actual rowing men, and was defeated, though a 
later motion that excluded professionally coached 
crews from competition was passed. Professional 
coaching was still permitted for scullers, with a 
delightfully English disregard for consistency. 

After Henley, the Pennsylvania crew accepted 
the challenge of Dublin University to row a three- 
mile race on Lake Killarney ; the Irish crew was 
a past and present one, but they had not been long 
together nor had they trained severely enough ; 
they were coached by Harcourt Gold, the same 
man who had coached Leander, but could not last 
the race. Pennsylvania went out for a dozen 
lengths in the first half-mile and then paddled 
easily ; Dublin stopped about a quarter of a mile 
from the finish. This race and the Harvard- 
Oxford race of many years ago are the only 
international match races of a real collegiate char- 
acter, and the Penn-Dublin is the only one that 
has ever been won by an American crew.^ 

^ The members of the Pennsylvania crew were R. R. Zane, bow; 
R. H. Eisenbrey, F. L. Davenport, Samuel Crowther, Jr., Arthur 
H. Flickwir, captain, G. S. Allyn, W. G. Gardiner, Jr., J. P. Gardi- 
ner, stroke; L. J. Smith, coxswain. 



The Intercollegiate Rowing Association 135 

The intercollegiate regatta on the Hudson 
this year resulted in the establishment of a new 
world's record for four miles by the Cornell 
eight. Courtney, after three years of disaster, had 
abandoned the new stroke, and was teaching a 
stroke about the same as that which Pennsylvania 
rowed ; the long swing was cut down and the 
slide lengthened so that the legs might be used to 
the full advantage. It was a longer stroke than 
Cornell rowed before they went to England and 
had more swing, but the chief element was the 
slide, and it was the main source of power. 
The Cornell oarsmen were strong and heavy, and 
they were beautifully together. Pennsylvania 
was represented by a third-rate crew in the 
absence of the first eight in England, and Syra- 
cuse, rowing for a year or more, sent both a Uni- 
versity and Freshman eight, while Wisconsin did 
not send on a Freshman crew. The Stewards 
also added a single scull race, but only one entry 
came, C. E. Goodwin of Syracuse, who rowed 
over. 

The Hudson on race day was wonderfully fast; 
it had been storming in the morning, but toward 
the time of the University race the weather cleared, 
the wind shifted down the river, and with a strong 
tide and current the boats started. Cornell, Co- 
lumbia under Hanlon, and Wisconsin made the 
struggle ; the weak Pennsylvania eight took last 



1 36 Rowing 

at once, and stayed there, while Georgetown and 
Syracuse contested the fourth position. Columbia 
had the best crew of recent years and fought 
hard with Cornell. At the finish, Cornell led 
Columbia by not cjuite two lengths ; Columbia 
had a little longer distance on Wisconsin, and 
Georgetown was well behind Columbia. Cor- 
nell's time was i8.S2i, and the first four crews 
were all under the former record. Pennsylvania 
won the Freshman race and Cornell the fours. 
For the two years following Cornell was 
supreme and won every race ; the stroke was 
that of 1 90 1, but the crews were becoming so 
powerful that they could row and win at a pace 
that often went under thirty; but whatever the 
stroke, all the crews nursed their recovery and 
the slide was slow. There were no pronounced 
features ; the catch was hard but not evident, — 
merely a steady application of power from the 
moment that the oar touched the water, — and 
if any one thing was distinctive, it was the 
recovery, which was very slow. In the fours and 
the Freshman races Cornell had contests, but in 
the University eights they usually pulled away 
from the start and led all the way. The crew 
of 1903 was one of the fastest, if not the fastest, 
four-mile eight that ever rowed ; with conditions 
which were fast but not exceptional, they made 
1S.57, o^^ "^"^ even stroke of twenty-seven without 



The Intercollegiate Rowing Association 137 

being pressed at any point in the race, and won 
by half a minute from Georgetown — a fast crew 
that year. 

The fact that Cornell could win with a slow 
stroke gave the idea that they won because of the 
slow stroke, and nearly all the crews came to 
the Hudson in 1904 rowing below thirty while 
the big Cornell eight seldom exceeded twenty- 
five. Syracuse rowed the old long-slide stroke, 
running from thirty-two to thirty-six as demanded, 
and won both races in surprising style ; they had 
long, lithe men with very good watermanship, 
and were able to row a high stroke for the full 
course ; they beat Cornell in the first two miles, 
and then on the third mile let out and won 
easily by several lengths. The illness of two 
men in the Cornell squad compelled E. T. and 
G. W. Foote to row in both the four-oared race 
and in the University eights, — an unequalled 
feat of strength and endurance. They won the 
fours easily, and did not seem more fatigued 
than their fellov/s at the end of the four-mile race. 

The career of the Intercollegiate Rowing Asso- 
ciation has been marked by a steady progress ; 
each regatta has been better than the previous one, 
and the spirit of absolute fairness, the freedom 
from petty bickering, and the invitation, ready 
for any competitor, has served vastly to increase 
the rowing of this country. It is most unfortu- 



1 38 Rowing 

nate that Harvard and Yale have not helped 
the advancement of the sport beyond their own 
institutions; Harvard has been broader than 
Yale and has sent out club crews to various 
regattas, but Yale has not entered a race, except 
with Harvard, where there was not a certain 
victory. The Intercollegiate Association has been 
the means of fostering rowing at Wisconsin, it 
has given rowing to Georgetown and to Syra- 
cuse, and since 1902 New York University has 
been rowing and trying to get an eight for 
Poughkeepsie. 

The University of California is the leading 
rowing college of the far West. In the fall of 
1893 the movement started, and by the following 
summer the funds had been subscribed for the 
purchase of shells and a boat-house had been 
built, while an eight was already in training and 
competing with the club crews of the neighbor- 
hood. A large regatta was planned for 1895, 
but a few days before the races the boat-house 
and the entire equipment was lost through a fire. 
It was a terrible blow to the youthful sport, but 
with the energy of a new university, the students 
raised more money, put up another, though less 
pretentious, house, and bought more shells. The 
only competitors were the clubs about the bay, 
and their sportsmanship was not marked ; the 
president in 1895, W. E. Cole, made an effort 



The IntercoUegiate Rowing Association 139 

to have Leland Stanford University go into row- 
ing, but nothing came of it, and class races were 
started which kept up the interest. 

The University of Washington, largely through 
the efforts of Paul Harper, had taken up row- 
ing in 1902, and some correspondence passed 
between them and California about a race; but 
no contest was actually arranged until 1903, when 
the first college boat race in that section of the 
United States took place on Lake Washington 
and was won by Washington ; and in the next 
year the two eights again met, this time on Oak- 
land Estuary, and the race went to California by 
eight lengths. 

During the fall of 1903 California, then under 
the presidency of Benjamin Ide Wheeler, who had 
done so much for rowing in the East, made a 
determined effort to start Stanford in boating. 
A representative went to Palo Alto and found 
worthy helpers there in Professor A. W. Smith, 
an old Cornell oar, and Paul Harper, who had 
started rowing at Washington. Between these 
two men the spirit was aroused, and Stanford put 
a crew on the water, and a triangular race between 
California, Stanford, and Washington was arranged 
for May i, 1904; but Washington had several 
mishaps and could not row until two days later, 
when they met California in the race mentioned 
above. California v/on easily from the green Stan- 



I40 Rowing 

ford eight, but the latter, taking in half a boat load 
of water in the first mile, pulled pluckily to the 
finish. 

Rowing is now on a firm basis in the far 
West, and there is no reason why the crews, in 
time, should not be the fastest in the country. 
The climate permits of open practice through the 
whole year, and with plenty of waterways the con- 
ditions surpass those of any Eastern university. 
It will be only a short time before a strong asso- 
ciation will rise to hold an annual regatta. 

The Naval Academy, because of the little free 
time that the many drills and the severe studies 
leave to the midshipmen, dropped off in their 
rowing after the first burst in the seventies and 
eighties, and for some years did not support a crew. 
Winston Churchill was a cadet between 1890 
and 1894, and he is the founder of the present 
system. In a few years races were arranged with 
the Pennsylvania crews, and later, from time to 
time, with second crews from Harvard and Yale. 
At the present time Pennsylvania, Georgetown, 
and Yale each send down crews, and the rowing 
spirit is high. 



CHAPTER V 

YALE AND HARVARD 

Harvard and Yale discovered a year earlier 
than Cornell that the hybrid English stroke 
would not do, and a revolution took place in the 
systems of each. " Bob " Cook had assumed the 
whole charge of the Henley trip of Yale, and he 
came back with ideas for changes in the stroke 
that he had first learned abroad many years be- 
fore. Before Yale went to Henley, they had a 
system at New Haven that could not well be 
bettered, and it is the only system that has ever 
been worthy of note in this country. The style 
was settled upon, and there were graduates who 
knew the stroke and could take up the prelimi- 
nary coaching one from the other, and bring the 
eights steadily on until just before the race, when 
Cook would round out the crews and bring them 
to the proper point. 

When Cook returned from Henley with his 
new ways, he did not have the help of these 
younger men who had learned in the old school ; 
it was either try a new stroke or do without Cook, 
and the rowing men elected to give Cook the full 

141 



142 Rowing 

power. He spent the entire training period at 
New Haven, and took up the work of coaching 
from the start, although for some years he had 
done no preHminary instruction, and was not at 
the time well fitted for the work. He evolved 
a long stroke with a short slide and a very hard 
catch, and also brought in the narrow English 
blades and tried various other experiments. Yale 
beat Harvard in 1S97 ^^^ 1898, and all might have 
gone well, but Cornell was in both of these races 
and simply rowed away from Yale. The younger 
element in the rowing who had been doing the 
yeoman work in previous years came forward and 
Cook left New Haven, while E. F. Gallaudet, 
stroke of the 1892 and 1893 crews, began the 
task of restoring to Yale a system of rowing. 

Harvard was in somewhat the same situation ; 
Mr. Lehmann's coaching was too much of a 
change. The English stroke could not be taught 
in a year or in two years ; it meant a complete 
change in methods — a restoration of the fixed 
seat, and a thorough mastery of rowing on a 
fixed seat before attempting a slide. Harvard 
had not devoted the necessary time to this 
preliminary instruction, and had not sufficiently 
developed the abdominal muscles before going 
into the shells. It would have required years 
for a real test and many beatings in the mean- 
time from Yale. Rather than go through this 



Yale and Harvard 143 

fire, haunted by the thought that perhaps, after 
all, the stroke could never be adapted to the 
American student, Harvard went back to the 
stroke that Mr. Storrow had stood sponsor 
for, and gave E. C. Storrow the full charge in 
1899 and 1900. 

Mr. Lehmann's visit did not do much toward 
the betterment of Harvard's rowing from the 
purely mechanical standpoint, and he did not 
leave many smooth working oarsmen ; he left 
rowing in a chaotic state, but he did help in 
a far more important and enduring manner. 
When Mr. Lehmann went to Harvard, rowing 
had reached its lowest level from the viewpoint of 
pleasure ; the strong men went in for the crew as 
a matter of duty and loyalty, prepared to spend a 
half year in the galleys for the sake of the Uni- 
versity. The Weld Club, organized in the early 
nineties, had done something toward the better- 
ing of the spirit ; but it is not until the time of 
Mr. Lehmann that one finds a real desire to row 
springing up at Cambridge. The Newell Club 
came into being, and with it the system of club 
crews that has done so much for Harvard's boat- 
ing spirit. The men who wished to row were di- 
vided between the two clubs in as nearly an even 
manner as possible ; there were professionals at 
the clubs, and every class in the University put 
out an eight and sometimes two eights from 



144 Rowing 

each club, while the men who rowed in single 
shells and working boats were innumerable. The 
regattas brought out twenty or more eights, and 
the system closely simulated that of the English 
universities with the classes and clubs substituted 
for the colleges. Still following the English sys- 
tem, two eights were selected from the best of 
the men in the club races, and from these two 
eights, as in the " trial eights " abroad, the Univer- 
sity eight was selected. The trouble with the 
system from the racing standpoint is that the 
men in the clubs are taught by professionals 
and then handed over to amateurs who teach 
differently, and the result is always an ill-assorted 
University crew. But in the broader view of 
sportsmanship, the system is admirable. 

In 1899 Harvard, under the new system, easily 
beat Yale, and in 1900 again turned out a fast 
eight. A week before the race F. L. Higgin- 
son, Jr., the stroke-oar, hurt his ankle and was 
forced to leave the boat. Harding, who had 
been rowing No. 2, went to stroke, and the crew 
seemed to be quite as fast- as before. Yale also 
had an exceptionally good eight, and the race 
was the most dramatic ever seen on the Thames. 
Yale started away first, and at two and one- 
half miles they had a length and a half, with 
Harvard pretty well blown, and it seemed as 
though they would only increase the distance 



Yale and Harvard 145 

between the shells as the race went on. Har- 
vard was rowing thirty-two and Yale a stroke 
higher. In the half-mile to the next flag Hard- 
ing started a great spurt that overcame the Yale 
lead and placed the Harvard shell a full length 
ahead at the three-mile point. Suddenly Hard- 
ing was seen to fall over his stretcher and stop 
rowing; he had been without sleep for several 
nights thinking over his new duties as stroke, and 
the strain was too much. Sheafe kept on 'with 
the stroke from No. 7, and Harvard finished the 
course; but Yale, after the collapse, had merely 
paddled on. 

In the four years that bring the account of 
these races to the present moment, Yale has been 
successful in each University contest ; they have 
continued the same stroke, but have passed gradu- 
ally from amateur to professional coaching. John 
Kennedy, the professional, had been engaged as a 
boat-rigger and assistant, but he was found to be 
so well fitted for coaching that a merely nominal 
head coach was appointed, usually the captain of 
the previous year, and the actual coaching de- 
volved upon Kennedy. 

Harvard has kept close to amateur coaching 
for the finishing of the University and the Fresh- 
man crews ; the early work in the clubs, as men- 
tioned, is in the charge of professionals, but the 
selection of the squads and the final modelling of 



146 Rowing 

the eight has been entirely amateur, and done by 
Harvard graduates until 1904, when the success 
of Cornell at Poughkeepsie led to the engage- 
ment of Colson, a former Cornell coxswain, who 
endeavored to teach the stroke that was then 
being taught at Ithaca. 



CHAPTER VI 

CLUB AND PROFESSIONAL ROWING THROUGH THE 
CIVIL WAR PERIOD 

The rowing that was rapidly gaining in the 
latter part of the fifties came to a sudden stop 
during the Civil War, and where five clubs had 
been founded in 1859, — the Waverley and the 
Gulick of New York, and the Alcyone of Brook- 
lyn, the Pacific Barge in Philadelphia, and the 
Menomonee in Milwaukee, — only eight come in 
the next five years ; but among these are some of 
the strongest of the present time, — such as the 
Malta, Pennsylvania, and Philadelphia Barge 
Clubs on the Schuylkill, and the Ariel Barge 
Club of Baltimore, which dates from the close of 
the war. 

The New York clubs in i860 formed the Re- 
gatta of the Hudson Navy to increase the interest 
in amateur racing, and they held a regatta in Sep- 
tember, with races in which boats of almost any 
description were allowed to enter with handi- 
caps for build and oars. It was the only meet- 
ing of the association, for the breaking out of 
the war caused it to disband in the following year. 

147 



148 Rowing 

Little racing, aside from the professional matches 
and rega.ttas, occurred, and the clubs contented 
themselves with club regattas or long excursions; 
the Gulicks signallized their organization by row- 
ing to Albany and back. The only sections in 
which much racing did take place was about Bos- 
ton, Pittsburg, and the upper Hudson ; the Citi- 
zen's Regatta at Worcester continued, together 
with the Boston and the Beacon Cup Regattas, 
the clubs about Pittsburg formed the Alleghany 
Association and gave their first races in July, i860, 
and the Empire City Regattas were held each 
year on the Harlem. 

Nearly all of these regattas, however, found 
their support from the professional oarsmen, and 
the bulk of the racing was in single sculls, four- 
and six-oared shells. Josh Ward was the un- 
beaten champion in the single sculls and defeated 
all of the best men of the time, such as Fay, 
Decker, Leary, John Biglin, W. H. Hayes, better 
known as " Bill Hem " Hayes, Fred Crownin- 
shield, and ' John Tyler, Jr., of Harvard, and 
numerous other scullers of lesser note ; Gilbert 
Ward was also coming into the field and rowed 
several creditable races. 

Josh Ward stands out as the old rugged type 
of oarsman, — big, muscular, and possessed of 
remarkable power and endurance ; he could row 
a race at any distance, but was especially good on 



Rowing through the Civil War Period 149 

the longer courses, and his time of one hour and 
twenty-three minutes in the ten-mile match with 
Burger, on the Hudson at Poughkeepsie, has 
never been equalled ; in his prime he held the 
records for nearly every course. The Ward 
family was then coming into rowing, and as it is 
undoubtedly the most famous of all the old row- 
ing families, a word should be said of them. They 
lived at Cornwall-on-the-Hudson, and their father, 
a fisherman and hotel-keeper, brought the boys 
up on the water; it was a large family, and five 
of them turned out oarsmen, John, Ellis, and Gil, 
with both scull and sweep, and Charles and Hank 
with the sweep alone; they were noted for re- 
markable endurance and strength, while in pluck 
they could not have been bettered. Josh and 
Ellis had almost perfect sculling form. 

A new champion was coming out of the West ; 
the sculling matches about Pittsburg had been 
won for several years by James Hamill, and in 
1862 he entered the sculls at the Boston Regatta, 
and came in so far ahead that the judges at first 
declined to give him the prize under the impres- 
sion that he had not covered the full course, and 
it was not until the next man proved that Hamill 
had really rowed all the way that the money was 
paid. Then Hamill challenged Ward to a match, 
and two races were arranged on the Schuylkill, 
the first at three and the second at five miles, both 



150 Rowing 

with turns. Hamill surprised the whole country 
by defeating Ward in both contests and taking 
the championship ; in the next year Ward chal- 
lenged to row at Poughkeepsie, and this time 
Ward won. Then came another challenge for a 
purse of $2000, and Hamill won over the Pough- 
keepsie course, and again settled the question 
of superiority on the Monongahela at Pittsburg 
in 1864, and retained the undisputed possession 
of the championship. Hamill was a remarkable 
little man; a glass-blower by trade, he had enor- 
mous chest and arm muscles, and he frequently 
rowed as many as sixty strokes a minute, with 
a choppy action that would have killed a man 
less hardy; his mode of rowing gained him the 
name of " The Little Engine," and his arms did 
move like piston-rods when in full action. 

After beating Ward, no one else cared to match 
against Hamill, and he issued a challenge to row 
Harry Kelley, the English champion. Two races 
were arranged for the Tyne at Newcastle, the first 
straight-away for about four and a half miles, and 
the other a five-mile turning contest ; the trials 
were on July 4 and 5, 1866, and Kelley won 
both without trouble. Hamill did not pull with 
his usual vigor, and seemed to have strained 
himself. 

Almost every city boasted of a crack four- or 
six-oared crew, and their meetings in regattas and 



Rowing through the Civil War Period 151 

match races were numerous ; for a time the leader 
was the George J. Brown four of New York, with 
John, James, and Bernard Bighn and Dennis 
Leary ; the Stranger of Poughkeepsie, which 
beat the Brown a couple of times, and were 
also beaten by them. The George W. Shaw 
of Poughkeepsie was the forerunner of the 
Stranger, and the crews were usually about the 
same. The Gersh Banker was a famous six- 
oar that Josh Ward often stroked, and the Dan 
Bryant another up- Hudson crew of note. The 
Harvard Sixty-Six, rowed by E. Farnum, H. 
G. Curtis, F. Nelson, N. Lawrence, Frederick 
Crowninshield, and C. H. McBurney, were promi- 
nent in all the Boston regattas in competition 
with the professional crews, while the George B. 
McClellan, with George Faulkner, John Lam- 
bert, John Morris, and Thomas Scott, was the 
champion four about Boston, and a rival of the 
Biglin crew. The Twilight held the cham- 
pionship about Pittsburg, and came East to dis- 
pute with the Brown and the Stranger, but lost 
both of the races. 

The years following the war saw a most 
remarkable revival of interest in athletic sports 
in general, but more especially in boating, and 
clubs formed all over the country within the next 
five years. Something like two hundred clubs 
were organized; some of them died when the 



152 Rowing 

craze had subsided, but others were more per- 
manently founded, and the majority of the present 
clubs had their inception about this period. The 
Dauntless, Friendship, Nassau, and Alcyone Clubs 
of New York date from this time, together with 
the Palisade of Yonkers, the Mutuals of Albany, 
and the Laureate of Troy. At Springfield, Massa- 
chusetts, seven clubs were organized in two years; 
the Eureka and Passaic of Newark, New Jersey, 
the Vesper, Crescent, and West Philadelphia in 
Philadelphia, and the Pickwick and Washington 
Bar^e Clubs, now lona^ since dead, formed and 
were very active. The Undines, Maryland, Argo, 
and Zephyr followed in the lead of the Ariel of 
Baltimore, and the Potomac and Analostan Clubs 
of Washington came shortly after. It is impos- 
sible even to find the names of all the clubs, but 
nearly every city that had a watercourse formed a 
rowing club. 

The races for amateurs and professionals were 
quite in keeping with the growth of the clubs, for 
most of these clubs were for racing rather than 
the barge rowing which had occupied them 
almost exclusively before the war. The Schuyl- 
kill Navy resumed its annual regattas, and the 
Hudson Amateur Regatta Association came up 
with an annual regatta over the Elysian Fields 
course to take the place of the short-lived Hudson 
Navy. The Baltimore clubs combined in the 



Rowing ihrough the Civil War Period 153 

Patapsco Navy, with an organization modelled 
after the Schuylkill Navy, and the Eagle Aquatic 
Association was formed at Poughkeepsie to give 
races. The Boston clubs headed a movement 
that resulted in the New England Rowing Asso- 
ciation in 1868, and the next year the Western 
clubs combined in the Northwestern Amateur 
Rowing Association. 

The clubs entered into many match races in 
four- and six-oared boats; the Atalanta Club of 
New York had the crack sweep oarsmen in 
George Roahr, Russell Withers, John Lindsey, 
William H. Webster, William C. Mainland, and 
Alden S. Swan. Their match with the Mutual 
Club at Albany drew many oarsmen; it was a 
home-and-home race, and the Atalantas won both 
at Albany and New York. They held the four- 
and six-oared amateur championships of the time. 

The professional racing drew the crowds and 
created the public excitement ; a race between 
prominent scullers or crews was witnessed by 
from ten to fifty thousand people, and the betting 
was like that on a horse-race. The modern police 
arrangements were unknown, and the referee sel- 
dom decided against the home crew ; the patriotism 
of the small town for its base-ball team is as noth- 
ing compared with the feeling in New York for 
the Biglins or other favorites, and that of the 
Hudson dwellers for the Wards. In match races 



154 Rowing 

each sculler was followed by a pilot barge from 
the bow of which some friend urged him on and 
at the same time intimidated the opponent; it 
was win at any cost. The visiting oarsman had 
little chance ; if the crowd did not break his boat 
before the start, he would have to run a gantlet 
of craft as soon as he took the lead, and many a 
man had his boat cut in two by a barge when 
leading toward the finish. If there was an advan- 
tage in course, the home oarsman got it ; if there 
was a question of a foul, it was decided in his 
favor. In one of Ellis Ward's races on the Harlem 
against a number of local favorites, he had to 
dodge four barges that went at full speed for him, 
and, all else failing, the boats massed at the fin- 
ish so that he could not cross on the proper side 
of the stake-boat, and then the opponents claimed 
that the race should not be given to him because 
he had not finished in the correct place. It was 
the universal custom for the leading boat to give 
the nearest competitor the " wash," and every 
trick possible was played. The referee was the 
sole judge, and if he decided a race a draw, no 
matter what the outcome had been, the bets were 
off, and there are several recorded cases where 
such a decision was given simply because the 
home crew had been heavily backed and had lost. 
The match races were conducted under elabo- 
rate articles of agreement just as prize fights are 



Rowing through the Civil War Period 155 

at the present day, and the least variation in boat 
from that prescribed meant the forfeit of the race. 
Fast boats made reputations for many, otherwise 
mediocre, scullers and crews. 

The racing was brisk in fours, and the Biglin- 
Leary crew, now rowing in the Samuel Colyer, 
were challenged by the Floyd T. F. Fields of 
Poughkeepsie, rowed by the old Stranger men 
— William Stevens, Homer Wooden, William 
Burger, and Ezekiel Beneway — for the cham- 
pionship and ^6000. The race was at Pough- 
keepsie, over five miles with a turn, and the Biglins 
won rather easily ; their championship did not last 
for long, though, because Josh Ward had organ- 
ized the famous four from his brothers, Gil, 
Charles, and Hank, and beat the Biglins on a 
five-mile course at Sing Sing in 33.05 — very fast 
time. 

While Hamill was in England a new sculler 
was coming into prominence ; David Walter 
Brown had been trained by Josh Ward some 
years before at Newburg, but he had never shown 
much endurance and had always dropped out at 
the end of a mile or so. As Walter Brown he 
became well known in Portland, Maine, winning 
many races and beating Ward at the Worcester 
Regatta in 1866; he was then matched for three 
miles against Ward in Portland Harbor, and 
again beat him on a very rough day ; the men 



156 Rowing 

came together a few days later in the Springfield 
Regatta, and this time Ward won. When Hamill 
returned, he found Brown an aspirant for the 
championship and gave him a race at Pitts- 
burg for $2000, which Brown won. Another 
match was at once made for Newburg in 
September, 1867, three months after the first 
race, and it produced a most extraordinary 
contest. 

Four thousand dollars was up as a purse for 
the five-mile race, and when the boats started, it 
is estimated that some fifty thousand persons 
were gathered on the banks ; the men were both 
popular and evenly matched, and the betting was 
larger than on any previous race in this country. 
Each sculler had a six-oared barge behind him. 
In Hamill's was John Biglin, and Charley Moore 
steered for Brown ; Biglin and Moore flourished 
each a pistol, and every moment one or the other 
was threatening to shoot as the opposing barge 
happened to come too near the rival sculler. 
Amid such a volley of curses the two rowed on. 
Brown was a' very fast starter, and he at once 
took a couple of hundred yards' lead and attempted 
to give Hamill a wash, but Hamill, though slovv^ at 
the start, came up, passed Brown, and reached the 
stake-boat four lengths ahead. At that time only 
one stake-boat was provided for a race, and the boat 
that first reached it had the right of way, and the 



Rowing through the Civil War Period 157 

other man must go around him. Hamill attempted 
to make a close turn, and the strong ebb-tide took 
him hard on the boat and he could not get loose. 
Brown was close behind him, and seeing the pre- 
dicament, headed directly for Hamill, broke his 
boat and put Hamill, who could not swim, into 
the water to be picked up by the pilot. Then 
Brown went on down and claimed the race ; 
Stephen Roberts, the veteran oarsman, was referee; 
Brown's people claimed that no foul had occurred, 
and, of course, Hamill's backers asserted their 
rights. Ellis Ward had been at the turning boat, 
and he testified while the crowd surged about the 
officials ; to increase the excitement, the dock, on 
which the crowd stood, fell in, and about half of 
them went into the water. When all had been 
calmed, the referee gave the race to Hamill on 
the foul. Hamill later had a new challenger in 
Coulter of Pittsburg, and beat him at Philadel- 
phia, while, in the same year (1869), Brown beat 
Coulter. 

The other professional interests concentrated in 
the fours, in which class the Ward Brothers were 
supreme ; the sweeps of St. John's were famous 
for their speed, and James Lee, the former cham- 
pion, arranged a match between the Ward four 
and a crew from St. John's on a five-mile course 
at Springfield for $2000 and the championship. 
The race took place on September 11, 1867, 



158 Rowing 

and brought the whole rowing public together. 
The Wards rowed a long, sweeping stroke, while 
the St. John's men had a shorter stroke that 
often went up to fifty ; Hank Ward started his 
crew off fast, and they led all the way, winning 
by two minutes. In July of the following year, 
the Harvard six, containing Alden P. Loring, who 
stroked their crew in England the same year, 
and R. C, Watson, were beaten by the Ward 
six, made up of the four with the addition of 
Ellis Ward and J. T. Raymond, and they asked 
to meet the Wards again in the Worcester 
Regatta in a three-mile race for ^300; the race 
was close and exciting, but the Wards won in 
the record time of 17.40^^, with Harvard thirteen 
seconds back. 

After this race the Wards issued a challenge 
to row any four in the world, and though several 
answered, only the St. John's men actually cared 
to race ; and they accepted with the Paris four 
that had won the championship of the world 
in the previous year in the regatta on the 
Seine, where they had beaten the fastest crews 
of England, among them the London Rowing 
Club four and the Oxford Etonians. The race 
was set for October on the six-mile course, 
with a turn at Springfield, and with it went the 
championship and $3000. The St. John's four 
well sustained their title of champions of the 



Rowing through the Civil War Period 159 

world, and though the Wp^rds led at the start, the 
New Brunswick crew soon took the lead and 
won by nearly a minute in 39.28f — or three- 
quarters of a second slower than the Wards had 
beaten the previous St. John's four. The Paris 
four was later beaten by Renforth's four from 
England, and in the second race Renforth col- 
lapsed under the strain, and St. John's won ; Ren- 
forth died the same day. 

International races were becoming more and 
more prominent ; Walter Brown went over to 
England and beat William Sadler on the Tyne, 
and an international regatta was arranged for 
Halifax. The Wards could not get a boat to 
enter, and the Biglin four rowed and were de- 
feated. The success of these regattas and the 
desire to have an international regatta in this 
country led John Morrisey to arrange for a great 
series of races at Saratoga in September of 1871, 
and the large purses brought the best oarsmen of 
England and America. England had the Taylor- 
Winship four that had won at Halifax and were 
the world's champions, and in which rowed J. H. 
Sadler, later the champion sculler of England ; 
the Tyne crew had Harry Kelley and Robert 
Chambers. The American crews were the Wards, 
with Ellis in the place of Charles Ward, the old 
Stranger four from Poughkeepsie rowing as the 
Dutchess County crew, the Biglin four with John 



1 60 Rowing 

and Bernard Biglin, Coulter and McKaye, and the 
McKee crew from Pittsburg. Such interest had 
never before been manifested in any race as when 
these men took the hne to start on their four-mile 
journey. The race was between the Wards, the 
Bighns, and the two English crews, but the Corn- 
wall men reached the turning boat first and came 
down at forty strokes to the minute, winning by 
three lengths from the Tynesiders, with the Tay- 
lor crew and the Biglins in a dead heat for third 
place. The time was 24.40, and has never been 
equalled. The Tyne crew used the greased slide, 
while the Wards and the other crews were on 
fixed seats. Sadler won the single sculls very 
easily, with Harry Kelley second, John Biglin 
third, and Ellis Ward fourth. 

Although the professional rowing had the 
greater public attention, the amateur oarsmen 
were active ; that rivalry between the college and 
the club crews had already started, and the Ata- 
lanta six of New York, the champion club crew, 
in 1 87 1 beat both Harvard and Yale, the former 
at Ingleside and the latter at Lake Saltonstall. 

The Atalantas then challenged the champion 
London Rowing;; Club four to a race over the 
Putney-Mortlake course for the following year, 
but they were beaten in a close race ; the Ata- 
lanta crew was Edward Smith, Alexander Handy, 
T. Van Raden, and Russell Withers. 



CHAPTER VII 

THE NATIONAL ASSOCIATION OF AMATEUR OARS- 
MEN 

The tone and the spirit of the great revival of 
aquatic sport that followed the Civil War was 
largely professional, and although amateur clubs 
were springing up all over the country, as yet no 
body of men dared to come forward and say who 
was an amateur; in fact the sport was in a most 
anomalous condition ; every association had its 
own definition, and often clubs themselves worked 
out the status of their members by their own 
peculiar rules. The amateur oarsman rowed 
freely against professionals in open races; and in 
New England, w^here the sport was in a particu- 
larly bad moral condition, the amateurs rowed 
with the professionals for money. Indeed, the 
average professional oarsman was a much better 
sort of person than the amateur who maintained 
his dishonest position only because he was good 
enough to beat most of the other amateurs, but 
not fast enough to have a chance with the better 
professional scullers. 

The men who really had at heart the interests 
of rowing saw that the condition would drive 

M l6l 



1 62 Rowing 

every gentleman out of the sport, and that real 
amateur rowing would soon cease to exist. To 
feel the pulse of the rowing clubs, and to find out 
whether or not the amateur spirit had died, two 
pamphlets were widely circulated, — " Who is the 
Amateur?" by William B. Curtis of Chicago, 
and "What is an Amateur?" by James Watson 
of New York. The little books found hearty 
endorsement among the better rowing men, and 
Mr. Curtis, thus encouraged, issued a call for a 
convention which should (i) establish a national 
definition of an amateur, (2) elect a committee to 
decide all disputed rowing questions, (3) establish 
a national amateur regatta, and (4) revise the laws 
of boat racing. Each club in the United States 
was invited to send delegates, and asked if they 
would, in the failure of representation, " accept 
the action of the convention as an authority to 
regulate the unsettled condition of the amateur 
question." 

The circular was none too well received, and 
out of the three hundred and fifty rowing clubs 
less than a hundred replies came back, while only 
twenty-seven clubs attended the first meeting 
on August 28, 1872, in De Garmo Hall, 14 Fifth 
Avenue, New York. The meeting was in the 
charge of John C. Babcock of the Nassau Boat 
Club and James Watson of the Atalanta Boat 
Club. The clubs represented were the Crescent, 



The Association of Amateur Oarsmen 163 

Pennsylvaiiia Barge, Malta, Quaker City, Un- 
dine, and Vesper Clubs of Philadelphia, together 
with a representative of the Schuylkill Navy ; 
New York had delegates from the Atalanta, 
Athletic Chib of Harlem, Friendship, Gulick, 
Nassau, and Sappho; the other clubs were Co- 
lumbia, Brooklyn; Oneida, Jersey City; Triton, 
Newark ; Neptune, West New Brighton ; A^r- 
gonauta, Bergen Point ; Palisade, Yonkers ; 
Altitual, Albany ; Riverside, Rochester ; Vesper, 
Glenmont, New York ; Union, Boston ; Narra- 
gansett. Providence; Analostan, Washington, 
District of Columbia ; Chicago, Illinois ; Excel- 
sior, Detroit, and the Wah-wah-stini, Saginaw, 
Michigan. 

The meeting discussed the situation very 
thoroughly, and the result was the National 
Association of Amateur Oarsmen to control 
amateur rowing, with the executive power vested 
in a board of nine men, three to be elected each 
year for a term of three years. This board was 
to pass upon the amateur standing of all oarsmen 
as well as to hold a regatta each year to deter- 
mine the amateur championships. The definition 
of an amateur caused considerable debate ; one 
section wanted to adopt the English definition 
and to exclude all artisans and other manual 
laborers from the races, but this was not passed, 
and the definition agreed upon was that an 



1 64 Rowing 

amateur is " one who does not enter into an open 
competition or for a stake, public or admission 
money, or against any professional for a prize, or 
who has never taught, pursued, or assisted in the 
pursuit of athletic exercises as a means of liveli- 
hood, or who has not been employed in or about 
boats or on the water." 

This definition spread alarm among the " ama- 
choors," and many clubs refused to acknowledge 
it, while the rowing writers nearly all criticised 
it as a harsh and unjust ruling. Of the twenty- 
seven clubs that had attended the convention, only 
sixteen joined the new association, and it looked 
for a time as though it must be a failure. The 
clubs of the Schuylkill Navy and the better clubs 
of New York were the only supporters, with the 
Union Boat Club of Boston ; but the men at 
the head kept on, and, with the knowledge that 
they were right, had the support of the small 
element who believed in rowing as an amateur 
sport. 

It is hard now to realize the opposition to the 
separation of, the petty professional from the 
amateur, but then the amateur idea was a new 
one and could not be grasped at once by the 
men who knew nothing of the ethics of sport. 
When amateurs published challenges in the 
newspapers and made matches in true profes- 
sional style for a prize of a certain market value 



The Association of Amateur Oarsmen 165 

which was turned to account a httle while after 
the race, it is not strange that the attempted 
elimination of these men should cause a war 
among their backers — for they all had backers. 

With all this controversy in the East, the row- 
ing was spreading with marvellous rapidity ; asso- 
ciations of clubs sprang up all over in order to 
give the races that would keep the clubs alive. 
The Harlem Regatta Association began to give 
races in 1873, and opened them to all clubs in 
1877; the Passaic River regattas at Newark 
were started in 1874, and in a few years there 
were associations for nearly every section, while 
the Northwestern Association increased in 
strength. There was the Metropolitan Associa- 
tion of Amateur Oarsmen, the Ohio regattas, 
an excellent rowing spirit about New Orleans 
and in St. Louis. In fact, the whole country was 
buying boats. 

The first regatta of the National Association 
of Amateur Oarsmen was held on the Schuylkill 
River in Fairmount Park on October 8, 1873, 
and it was very successful, though but three 
races made up the programme, — single and 
double sculls and four-oared shells. As yet no 
classification had been adopted, and the Argo- 
nauta four of New York won their race, and later 
better established their claim to the champion- 
ship by beating the Buffalo and Atalanta Club 



1 66 Rowing 



a 



fours in match races. Charles Myers of the 
Nassau Boat Club won the singles, and Steele 
and Witmer of the Crescent Boat Club of Phila- 
delphia were the initial winners in doubles in 
which pair-oars also rowed. Most of the more 
notorious amateurs did not attempt to enter for 
the races, and the Executive Committee was 
spared their disqualification. 

The holding of this amateur regatta undoubt- 
edly helped the sport greatly, and the policy of 
the association being to shift the races about from 
year to year, and thus increase the interest of the 
various localities, the regattas of the next two 
years went to Troy ; the Schuylkill Navy, with 
the National Association so far away, thought 
to try their speed with the crews of other cities, 
and for 1874, and the year after, the Navy opened 
their annual regatta, which had always been closed 
to crews outside the Navy. The regattas at Wat- 
kins, New York, and on Seneca Lake started, and, 
in fact, racing was plenty. 

Four-oared shell rowing held the popular posi- 
tion; the colleges went in for sixes, but the clubs 
did the major part of their racing in fours, and the 
number of fast crews is astonishing; Michigan's 
men in particular seemed to take to the sweep, 
and their powerful sons made many a speedy 
crew. In the West no crew could really give a 
contest to the Wha-iuha-smns in sixes, and in 



The Association of Amateur Oarsmen 167 

1875 another crew of French Canadians — the 
Shoe-wae-cae-meUes from Monroe, Michigan — 
began to win all the four-oared races that they 
entered. The Beaverwycks of Albany were 
another fast lot, and so were the Atalantas of 
New York. 

The Centennial Exposition in Philadelphia 
brought about the holding of the first inter- 
national amateur regatta in this country, and 
really the only one that has ever been held. 
There were six events — single and double 
sculls, pair- and four-oared shells, intercollegiate 
fours and college graduate fours ; the two last 
have already been described in another section. 
The foreign representatives were the London 
Rowing Club, Trinity College (Dublin), and 
First Trinity (Cambridge). The Dublin crew 
were all graduates and rowed in both the cham- 
pion and the graduate fours. Every crack four 
in the country entered for the big race, including 
such crews as the Beaverwycks of Albany, the 
Eurekas of Newark, the Vesper, Creseent, and 
Pennsylvania Barge Chibs of Philadelphia, the 
Diiquesne of Allegheny, Elizabeths, Falcons, Wat- 
kins, Argonauta, and Northzvestern of Chicago, 
— seventeen of them in all. The first heats were 
won by the Ezirekas, who beat Dublin ; by Yale ; 
by Columbia College; by the Beaverwyck ; by 
Watkins ; and by London. The final heat nar- 



1 68 Rowing 

rowed down to Beaverwyck, Watkiiis, and London, 
and they made a grand race. The " Beavers " 
led at the start, but halfway down the course all 
three crews were even. The Watkins four put 
on their spurt at the head of Peter's Island, 
about a quarter of a mile from the finish, and 
gained a full length; the effort was too much; 
they could not keep the lead, and fell back to 
the others. Then London went out until they 
had a length, and Watkins and Beaverwyck were 
bow and bow. All this had taken place within 
a very few seconds. With but a hundred yards to 
go, the Beaverwyck four started their spurt, over- 
hauled London within a few yards of the line, 
and, as luck would have it, their oars were in 
the water at the line, and they won by a couple 
of feet. The official time was, Beaverwyck, 9.06 ; 
London, 9.06^ ; Watkins, 9.o8|-. The winning 
crew was made up — J. T. McCormick, bow ; 
L. H. McEntee, R. T. Gorman, T. J. Gorman, 
stroke. Charles E. Courtney of Union Springs, 
New York, the amateur champion of the pre- 
vious year, easily won the singles, and, with 
F. E. Yates, a former champion who seems to 
have rowed for a different club every year, won 
the doubles. The Northwestern Boat Club of 
Riverdale, Illinois, won the pair-oars. The Na- 
tional races had been held on the Schuylkill, 
a few days before the Centennial races. 



The Association of Amateur Oarsmen 169 

The National Association had been making a 
hard fight against the masquerading amateurs, 
and though those men who actually competed 
for money were soon disposed of, another class 
demanded attention, — the men who by sinecure 
clerical positions or presents of money were com- 
pensated for rowing ; it was a bitter war, but in 
January of 1876 a special meeting of the Associa- 
tion was held in New York, and they extended 
the definition by the inclusion of the phrase 
" whose membership of any rowing or other 
athletic club was not brought about, or does not 
continue, because of any mutual agreement or 
understanding, expressed or implied, whereby 
his becoming or continuing a member of such 
club would be of any pecuniary benefit what- 
ever, direct or indirect." The clause served to 
get rid of many of the more open cases, and 
was a step in the right direction, but such sup- 
port of racing members is so easy to give secretly 
that many of the men escaped. For many years 
we find the amateur champions becoming profes- 
sionals, and the general attitude of the clubs was 
against rather than with the spirit of the rules. 
In 1877 the regatta went to Detroit, where the 
rowing was much stimulated, and then, in the 
following year, came down to Newark. The 
demand for a race in which the less experienced 
scullers might have a chance was satisfied by the 



170 

addition of a junior single race for men who had 
never won a sculling race, on the same lines as 
the class which had originated in the Schuylkill 
Navy, and had been adopted by the Northwest- 
ern Association. In 1878 the Mississippi Valley 
Association formed, with the clubs from Galveston 
to St. Paul. 

The victories of the American oarsmen created 
a desire to organize something in the nature of 
a general raid on the Henley Regatta, and the 
Watkins Rowing Association offered to send the 
winners in a regatta, that they should give, to 
Henley. The fours were won by the Shoe-ivae- 
cae-mette crew of Monroe, Michigan, the singles 
by Georget W. Lee of the Triton Boat Club of 
Newark, and the pair-oared shells by Walter H. 
Downs and John E. Eustis, of the Atalanta Club, 
but who had formerly rowed at Wesleyan. Eustis 
and Downs could not go to Henley on account 
of business, but the other winners sailed. Lee 
was a fast sculler, though in no wise remarkable, 
but the "Shoes" were perhaps the most interest- 
ing crew that^ever competed. They sat — Moses 
Nadeau, bow; Joseph Nadeau, Henry Durell, 
Stephen Dusseau, stroke; Dusseau weighed one 
hundred and sixty pounds, but the other three 
men were all about one hundred and forty. In 
spite of their slight physiques, they had remark- 
able endurance, being French Canadian water- 



The Association of Amateur Oarsmen i^ji 

men, and could keep up their quick little stroke 
for almost any distance. Their rate is higher than 
that of any crew on record ; never did they go 
below forty, even when rowing easily, and when 
pressed, the stroke-oar would give a weird yell, 
run up to fifty, and maintain that stroke for a 
long way. Their watermanship was very fair, and 
though the stroke was little more than a dig at 
the water, the strength went on together. They 
had been winning in the West for three years, and 
were considered a phenomenal crew. 

Columbia College had entered for both the 
Visitors and the Stewards, the " Shoes " being 
eligible only for the latter; and Lee, of course, 
tried the Diamond Sculls, for which a George 
Lee from the Union Boat Club of Boston also 
rowed. G. W. Lee drew Edwards-Moss in the 
first heat, and, holding him easily down to the 
finish, made a mistake at the line and stopped 
before he came to it under the impression that he 
had won the race ; Moss went on and won. The 
other Lee had no chance in his heat. In the first 
heat of the Stewards the " Shoes " met Columbia 
and Dublin ; they started off at what is, on good 
authority, said to be fifty-four strokes to the min- 
ute, and gained a length at the middle of the 
course; here Dublin fouled Columbia and the 
" Shoes " won very easily ; the referee, though 
placing all the blame for the foul on Dublin, 



172 Rowing 

would not allow Columbia to go into the final. 
The London Rowing Club had also won their 
heat and met the Monroe four in the final race ; 
for seven years the Londoners had held the trophy, 
and they took the American crew away at such a 
pace that, though the " Shoes " led at times, the 
London crew had drawn away nearly a length at 
the end of a mile. Then the Americans attempted 
a spurt, but instead of the boat going forward, it 
was seen that one of the men was nearly done, 
and in a few moments they stopped rowing alto- 
gether. It was afterwards said that Joseph 
Nadeau, who had collapsed, had been ill for a 
couple of days. The " Shoes " asked for a match 
race with the London Rowing Club, but it was 
not granted. This Michigan crew were not 
gentlemen, and they did not make up well at 
Henley. 

The lack of a general college regatta at this 
time prompted the National Association of 
Amateur Oarsmen to put in races for college 
men, in singles and fours, in the regatta of 1879, 
at Lake Saratoga, and though college scullers 
had been frequent competitors in the senior sin- 
gles, yet only one man, Lewis of Cornell, came up 
for the singles, and the Cornell four was also the 
only entry in their race ; the classes were dropped 
after another year because they did not fill, and 
never since have college men taken up much with 



The Associaticni of Amateur Oarsmen 173 

the National Association, The regatta at Sara- 
toga was the largest that had yet been held, and 
brought crews from New York, Pennsylvania, 
Louisiana, Michigan, Virginia, Massachusetts, 
Rhode Island, Minnesota, New Jersey, Texas, 
and Connecticut, as well as Canada. Fifteen 
men competed in the senior singles and sixteen 
crews entered in the fours. The most remarkable 
crew of the regatta was the four of the Hillsdale 
Boat Club of Hillsdale, Michigan; they had been 
organized but a couple of months, and had pur- 
chased an old paper shell with which the sellers 
threw in a set of ancient sweeps. The men 
themselves were store clerks, and not of excep- 
tional strength, nor had they form ; they rowed a 
very short stroke with no body work whatever, but 
managed to make their time perfect, and thus every 
pound went on at exactly the same moment, and 
for three years not a four in this country could 
even give them a race, and on several occasions 
they actually beat eights. The members of the 
crew were C. W. Terwilliger, bow ; J. D. Wilson, 
T. F. Beckhardt, E. B. Van Valkenburgh, stroke. 
Curiously enough, they never trained out of the 
boat, and would smoke almost to the time that 
their race was called. The Hillsdales surprised 
every one by the easy manner in which they won 
their heat ; the final race was a general mix-up ; 
when leading, the Hillsdales broke a slide and had 



1 74 Rowing 

to stop, but the Shoe-zvae-cae-mcites and the Wah- 
wak-sums had been generally fouling, and they 
were disqualified; and the race being rowed over 
between the Hillsdales, the Mtihials of Albany, 
and the Elizabeth Boat Clttd of Portsmouth, Vir- 
ginia, the Hillsdales w^on easily. A most dis- 
graceful incident happened in the senior singles 
when F. E. Holmes, on whom a great deal of 
money had been placed, deliberately fouled two 
oarsmen against whom his followers had backed 
other men. He was a poor type of amateur, and 
had before the race offered to row a match for 
money ; Lee, the representative to Henley in the 
previous year, had already turned professional. 
F. J. Mumford, of the Perseverance Club of New 
Orleans, came in second, and was given the race 
on the disqualification of Holmes. Mumford was 
champion for another year, and then Holmes 
held the title in 1881 and 1882. 

The Association began to tire of its nomadic 
life, and the regatta of 1880 went to Philadelphia 
with the idea that, if all were satisfactory, the 
Schuylkill should have it annually; but the ar- 
rangements did not happen to please every one 
concerned, and the regatta was not permanently 
located. The increased interest in large-shell 
racing, due to the college competition, had caused 
the addition of a six-oared race in the previous 
year, and now a race for eights was also added. 



The Association of Amateur Oarsmen 175 

The races of the regatta were not exceptional 
aside from that in senior singles, where another 
nasty job occurred. Holmes did not start, and the 
real race was between Mumford and W. Murray of 
the Elizabeth Boat Club, who had won the junior 
singles in the previous year, although a senior 
at the time. Murray's conduct in the race was 
quite in keeping with his record, and he fouled 
Mumford several times in the most deliberate 
manner. 

Although rowing was exceedingly popular and 
the National Association well administered 
under the presidencies of T. E. Parsons (1873), A. 
F. Dexter (1874-1876), O. M. Remington (1877- 
1880), and Henry Whiting Garfield (1882-1894), 
yet the professional tactics of many of the competi- 
tors and the feeling that one might row against 
men who did nothing but row, and who were 
professionals in all but name, caused the better 
men gradually to abandon racing; it was not 
a sudden movement, but slowly the gentlemen 
began to be seen less and less in the annual 
regattas. 

Many associations had been organized ; the 
Pacific Amateur Rowing Association had the 
control of the coast clubs, and in the South was 
the Virginia Association of Amateur Oarsmen, 
the Louisiana Association of Amateur Oarsmen, 
and there were also regattas in Texas, while the 



1 76 Rowing 

holding of the National Regatta in Washington 
in 1 88 1 further stimulated the Southern rowing 
interests. The clubs of Troy and Albany or- 
ganized the Upper Hudson Navy, and the Kill 
von Kull Rowing Association also came into ex- 
istence at about the same time. 

The Hillsdale four, with three championships 
to their credit, had a clear title to go to England 
and meet the best of the fours there ; and, in 1882, 
they started abroad, and soon were quartered 
on the Thames and showing wonderful speed. 
The Skoe-wac-cae-mcttes, well meaning but crude, 
had not been entirely desirable guests a few 
years before, and the Hillsdales were treated 
very shabbily on the faith of the " Shoes' " 
conduct ; as a matter of fact, the members of 
the crew were absolute amateurs and represented 
a much better type than was then prominent in 
American rowing. The English Amateur Row- 
ing Association inquired into the status of the 
men, asked for various vouchers, which were 
supplied, and then declared that the men could 
not be considered amateurs. It was a decision 
founded on prejudice rather than fact, and one 
opponent shrewdly reasoned that these men 
must be professionals because they wore silk 
handkerchiefs about their heads in lieu of caps, 
and this was a habit common among professional 
oarsmen. The Hillsdales rowed at Marlow and 



The Association of Amateur Oarsmen 177 

won easily, but they were refused at Henley 
and in several other regattas where their entries 
had been solicited before the action of the 
Amateur Association. Finally, the men sent 
a challenge to the Thames and the London 
Rowing Clubs, and the former club accepted, 
but a few days later reconsidered their accept- 
ance and declined to row. At length, however, 
the match was arranged, though the English 
opposition was very violent, and came off on 
September 15, 1S82, over the Putney-Mort- 
lake course. Hillsdale led from the very start, 
and had four clear lengths at Chiswick Church, 
when bow broke his slide; he threw it overboard 
and rowed sitting on the runners. Thus handi- 
capped, the Michigan crew lost a great part of 
their speed, but kept bravely on and finished 
only fourteen seconds behind Thames. Thames 
would not row another race, nor could a contest be 
had with any crew, and the Hillsdales, after their 
three months' fruitless stay, sailed home again. 
The attitude of the English Association was 
not popular even in England, and in America 
it caused the deepest resentment. 

This same year witnessed the birth of several 
rowing associations ; the success of the Colum- 
bia Club of Washington inspired the formation 
of the Potomac River Regattas, and the Green- 
wood Lake Association also came into being. 



I 'jS Rowing 

A regatta of some size was held at Philadelphia in 
connection with the Bicentennial Celebration, and 
the Western influence again took the National 
Regatta out to Detroit, and again Michigan sus- 
tained their record for champion fours, winning 
with the Centemiial four of Detroit. In the fol- 
lowing season, the new Pacific Coast Rowing 
Association held their first regatta, and rowing 
increased through Pennsylvania, several regattas 
beino- held on the inland waters. Ei(>;ht-oared 
rowing so grew in popularity that a Philadelphia 
gentleman founded the Sharpless Cup for annual 
competition in eights on the Schuylkill River, a 
race that has brought from time to time all of the 
best club eights in the country. 

The National Association found continual 
trouble with the competition of men who did not 
belong in the amateur class, but who did not care 
to go into the professional ranks where the rac- 
ing was nearly dead, and a small living promised ; 
they preferred to row as amateurs and by betting, 
and the sale of the far too valuable prizes, find a 
little money. ' In order to attract the best crews, it 
was necessary for regattas to give prizes of large 
intrinsic worth, and most of these found their 
way into the pawnshop or the melting-pot. The 
junior class gave some trouble under the old 
definition, and the present description was 
adopted in 1884 ; and four years later the amateur 



The Association of Amateur Oarsmen 179 

definition, owing to a careful report of President 
Garfield on the situation, was further amplified by 
the addition of the following clause : " who rows 
for pleasure or recreation only, and during his 
leisure hours, and who does not abandon or 
neglect his usual business or occupation for the 
purpose of training, and who shall otherwise con- 
form to the rules and regulations of this associa- 
tion." The object of this clause was, of course, 
to get at the petty professionals who lived by 
their rowing in summer. A few of the medal- 
selling oarsmen were disqualified, but the majority 
went free. At that time the just rule was in force 
that a man disqualified should be considered a 
professional, and this, together with the certainty 
that the club of the oarsman would be estranged 
from the National Association, made the commit- 
tee very chary about disqualifications when a firm 
hand and an honest purpose, free from politics, 
might have saved rowing the withdrawal of the 
better sportsmen, which was gradually coming 
about. 

In 188=; the rcQ-atta went to Boston for the 
first time. The Boston clubs had not previously 
supported the association to any extent, because 
professional rowing was more firmly planted there 
than in any other section of the country. In 
1886 the growth of rowing in Chicago caused the 
formation of the Chicago Navy on the same lines as 



i8o Rowing 

the Schuylkill Navy, with the Farragut, Delaware, 
Tippycanoe, Evanston, Iroquois, Ogden, Catlin, 
Union, Hyde Park, Quintard, and Douglas Clubs, 
and the clubs of the Northwest, — the Minnesota 
Boat Club of St. Paul, the Lurline of Minneapolis, 
Duluth of Duluth, and the Winnipeg of Winnipeg 
— combined in the Minnesota and Winnipeg Rov/- 
ing Association, and started their annual regattas. 
The Long Island clubs, led by the Seawanhaka, 
formed the Long Island Rowing Association. 

Although the National Regatta at Boston 
caused some trouble because of a close decision 
that went against Boston, the amateur rowing 
received an impetus that carried it well forward, 
and out of the professional atmosphere. So much 
so that, in 1887, a need was felt for an amateur 
association, and James P. Fox, president of the 
Crescent Boat Club of Boston, which had been 
instrumental in securing the National Regatta, 
called a meeting of all the clubs, and the New 
England Amateur Rowing Association v/as 
formed with Walter Stimpson as president ; the 
first regatta went off successfully on the Charles, 
and has been shifted from year to year among the 
New England towns, both in the spring and in 
the fall. The most important work of the asso- 
ciation has been in the elimination of the profes- 
sional rowing about Boston and the substitution 
of amateur racing. 



The Association of Amateur Oarsmen i8i 

Philadelphia's rowing had been growing, but 
as yet no regatta was held annually in which 
the local clubs could meet the outside oarsmen 
with the exception of the race in eights for 
the Sharpless Cup; the Schuylkill Navy regattas 
were closed to the clubs of the Navy, and to give 
a general competition, in 1887, the People's Re- 
gattas were instituted as a part of the city's Fourth 
of July celebrations. 

The Iowa Rowing Association was also formed 
about this time; the West had many clubs that 
were greatly handicapped in the way of racing 
by the long distances to any regatta. Some little 
rowing took place on the Great Salt Lake, which 
is quite the oddest place to row in the country 
because of the saline nature of the water ; a shell 
draws from one-half an inch to an inch less than 
in fresh water, and seems almost to glide over 
the surface, while the density of the water allows 
the oar to have an exceptional grip and a corre- 
sponding difficulty in feathering ; it is impossible 
to use other than narrow blades. 

The history of the National Association from 
1885 up until the present time is simply a re- 
counting of a general decline in club rowing and 
racing, and, for the last few years, of an increase 
in boating; the decline is due to several causes, 
some of which have been mentioned. After the 
Civil War, boat clubs sprang up without the real 



1 82 Rowing 

facilities for boating, and this weecllike growth 
could only last for a few years at the best, espe- 
cially since their life was bound up with victory. 
These clubs died, but they, in many cases, re- 
tained their membership in the National Associa- 
tion, and their shells each gave a vote for the 
men who desired to keep office more than they 
desired to see rowing prosper. The National 
Association thus came into the control of the 
inactive clubs, and its meetings became the scenes 
of petty political battles. And, while the men, 
who should have spent their time in bettering the 
sport, fought and squabbled for honors, the " ama- 
choor " thrived wonderfully and drove out the 
real sportsman who did not care to compete 
with the man who was practically supported by 
his club, sold his medals, and, finally, when a 
better opportunity offered, left amateur competi- 
tion and became a coach. To disqualify a man 
meant that his club would be lost to the Associa- 
tion, or that it would begin an active campaign 
against the person who had started the investiga- 
tion. In the interests of peace the Executive 
Committee kept their eyes closed as much as 
possible, and the work for the good of the sport 
came from a very few. 

In the West the rowing fell off more than in 
any other section, and Detroit alone, with the 
powerful Detroit Boat Club, kept an active in- 



The Association of Amateur Oarsmen 183 

terest, while Chicago rowed to some extent. 
New York, Philadelphia, and Boston were the 
real centres of rowing, and Philadelphia was not 
quite in harmony with the National Association 
and did not send many entries. During this 
period, from 18S5 on, the place of the National 
Regatta shows to some extent the location of the 



rowing interest. The list is as follows: r 
Albany; 1887, Jamestown, New York; 1888, 
Sunbur)^ Pennsylvania; 1889, Pullman, Illinois; 
1890, Worcester, Massachusetts; 1891, Washing- 
ton, District of Columbia; 1892, Saratoga, New 
York; 1S93, Detroit, Michigan; 1894, Saratoga, 
New York; 1895, Saratoga, New York; 1896, 
Saratoga, New York; 1897, Philadelphia; 1898, 
Philadelphia; 1899, Boston; 1900, New York; 
1901, Philadelphia; 1902, Worcester, Massachu- 
setts; 1903, Worcester, Massachusetts; 1904, St. 
Louis. 

Within the past five years the improvement in 
the character of the club, oarsmen has been most 
noticeable, and where formerly the club-racing 
man could safely be assumed to be shady, now 
no such assumption is permissible, and though 
the best scullers have not been the true amateur 
types, — as Ten Eyck, Rumohr, and Titus, — yet 
the general average is good, and the sport is taking 
a better level ; the National Association is not as 
effective as it should be, and some of the men 



184 Rowing 

on the Executive Committee are still elected from 
classes who have not the ethical understanding 
of an amateur, yet there are some good men in 
power, and the outlook is hopeful. 

A number of the amateur champions have tried 
for the Diamond Sculls at Henley ; C. G. Psotta, 
Cornell, champion in 1888, went over in the next 
year and lived as long as the finals, when he was 
defeated by Guy Nickalls, and in the next year 
met defeat in the first trial by G. E. B. Kennedy. 
J. J. Ryan of Toronto tried in 1894, but went out 
in the first heat. Dr. W. S. McDowell of the 
Delaware Boat Club, Chicago, was beaten in 1896 
and again in 1897, when, curiously enough, there 
were three Americans entered, — E. H. Ten Eyck, 
B. H. Howell, and McDowell. The latter was 
beaten by Blackstaffe for the London Cup, who 
also beat Howell for the Wingiield Sculls. 

The sculler of greatest prominence during this 
whole time, and perhaps the fastest amateur who 
has ever handled a scull, was Edward Hanlon 
Ten Eyck, the son of James Ten Eyck, the pro- 
fessional. He was brought up in a boat by his 
father, a consummate oarsman, and won his 
Junior single at the New England Regatta in 
1895, and then followed a series of races in which 
he proved himself to be the fastest man of the 
day ; and, although he did not enter for the senior 
singles at the National Regatta, he won the 



The Association of Amateur Oarsmen 185 

intermediate class easily in 1896. In 1897 ^"^^ 
entered for the Diamond Sculls at Henley, row- 
ing for the Wachusett Boat Club of Worcester, 
his home. At the time he was only eighteen 
years old, but he won his heats easily, and then 
beat Blackstaffe in the finals by a length and a 
half in 8.35, — then a record for the course. Ten 
Eyck and his father did not fall into the ways of 
the Henley oarsmen, and rather conducted the 
training on the same lines as the professional 
oarsmen, and quite innocently fell foul of many 
of the customs. To complicate matters further, 
they allowed themselves to be dined by some 
of the older professionals, who were friends of 
the young champion's father. These things do 
not seem so great to us, but the Englishman is 
very jealous of Henley, and anxious to keep out 
all who do not conform to his idea of a gentle- 
man. Thus in the next year, when Ten Eyck 
wished to defend the title, his entry was refused 
without the assignment of a reason. Follow- 
ing his victory at Henley, Ten Eyck won the 
senior singles and the championship singles in 
the National Regattas whenever he chose to row 
for them ; he won the championship singles in 
1899 ^Jf^cl 1 90 1, but defaulted in 1900, having 
previously beaten the winner — John Rumohr. 
In doubles with C. H. Lewis, Ten Eyck won the 
championship 1898-1901, and then stopped active 



1 86 Rowing 

rowing, without having been beaten, or, in fact, 
without having been really hard pushed. Ten 
Eyck's style was extremely smooth and his water- 
manship perfect ; he derived much of his power 
from strong arms and shoulders, and was so well 
schooled that he could instantly master any con- 
ditions of wind or water. 

Most of the scullers of recent years have come 
out of New England ; William Caffrey, J. J. 
Whitehead, and Joseph Maguire are all from 
about Boston, while the present champion, Frank 
B. Greer, is also a New Englander, and is a pupil 
of the elder Ten Eyck — as were most of the 
others. John J. Ryan of Toronto held the ama- 
teur championshiiD for two years, and another 
Canadian — John Rumohr of Rat Portage — won, 
and later, being refused entry in the regattas of 
Canada, joined the Harlem Rowing Club and won 
the championship in 1900 on Ten Eyck's default; 
his standing was more than questionable, and his 
methods were those of the previous decade, when 
amateurs had backers at whose will they won or 
lost. Constance S. Titus completes the list of 
the prominent scullers of the decade and a half ; 
he was not a natural oarsman, but possessed 
strength, and in New Orleans worked himself 
to the top ; then he entered in the National in 
1898 for the first time, and was easily beaten, but 
he kept steadily onward, and in 1901, rowing for 



The Association of Amateur Oarsmen 187 

the Union Boat Club of New York, won the 
senior singles, and in 1902 the championship. 
Before the National Regatta of 1902 Titus rowed 
for the Diamond's and beat Lou Scholes, Don 
Rowing Club, Toronto, in the first heat, and 
W. W. Field, Oxford, in the second trial, but was 
outrowed in the final by F. S. Kelley, Balliol 
(Oxford), who finally won the trophy. The entry 
of Titus in 1903 was refused. 

James B. Juvenal of the Vesper Boat Club, 
Philadelphia, a former winner of the National 
senior singles, entered at Henley in 1903, but he 
went out in the first heat. The only other 
American who has ever won the Diamond's is 
B. H. Howell, Trinity Hall (Cambridge), who re- 
ceived all his rowing as well as his other educa- 
tion in England; he won in 1898, making a new 
record of 8.29, and again won in the following 
year, reducing the record to 8.06. In 1904 
L. Scholes of the Don Rowing Club, who had 
previously tried for the sculls, won. With the 
exception of the college men, the sallies of the 
club oarsmen have all been at the Diamond's, 
and no sweeps have gone over since the troublous 
trip of the Hillsdales. 

The most noted group of club oarsmen be- 
longs to Philadelphia, where the Pennsylvania 
Barge Club gathered in all the best sweeps on the 
river, among whom was John O. Exley, the best 



1 88 Rowing 

club sweep of recent years ; these men subse- 
quently shifted to the Vesper Boat Club. They 
won for the two clubs many prizes through 
many years. Exley, with various companions, 
won the pair-oars for four years ; Van Vliet was 
the mainstay of four winning doubles ; and in 
fours the same group of men won twice, while 
in eights for one club or the other, and with some 
changes, they could win whenever they chose to 
train. They were all large, powerful fellows and 
had their speed from absolute strength and fine 
watermanship ; of body form they had none, but 
from their familiarity with sculling and all kinds 
of boats they could get in and out together, 
and this won them the short-distance races of 
the club regattas. 

The Canadian fours have always been strong, 
and that of the Winnipeg Club won a number of 
times, while the Argonauts also sent fast fours; 
one of the fastest of the fours that rowed in 
the National Regattas was that of the Wachu- 
sett Boat Club in 1900, coached by Ten Eyck. 
In eights, before the advent of the Pennsylva- 
nia Barge-Vesper group, the Atalanta Boat Club 
of New York and the New York Athletic Club 
were supreme. 

At the time of the Paris Exposition of 1900 an 
international regatta was planned on the Seine 
in connection with the Olympic Games, and the 



The Association of Amateur Oarsmen 189 

National Association of Amateur Oarsmen held 
a test regatta after the regular races to determine 
the best men to send abroad. Ten ■ Eyck won 
the senior sculls, and with Lewis had a row 
over in the doubles. The Vesper Boat Club, 
with the men mentioned above, won the fours 
and the eights. Ten Eyck refused to go because 
the Association would not also pay the expenses 
of his father to coach him, and the Vespers were 
the only representatives. The races occurred on 
August 25-26, over one mile one hundred and 
fifty-three yards of the Seine, at Asnieres, above 
Paris. A Belgian, a Dutch, a German, and a 
French crew entered ; the Americans drew with 
the French eight in the first heat and won easily, 
the Frenchmen stopping at the end of a mile. 
The final heat brought out more of a struggle, 
but after a couple of hundred yards had been 
rowed, the Vespers had a safe lead and won by 
about three lengths in 6.07^.^ 

A peculiar local condition about Boston in 1895 
brought out a new rowing association in that 
district, — the Metropolitan American Rowing 
Association. In that year a great many crews 
prepared to enter the regatta of the New Eng- 
land American Rowing Association, but the 

^ The Vesper eight were : Roscoe Lockwood, bow; E. Marsh, 
E. Hedley, W. Carr, J. Geiger, J. B. Juvenal, H. De Baecke, J. O. 
Exley, stroke ; L. Abell, coxswain. 



iQo Rowing 

managers of that Association, because they failed 
to get a sufficiently large appropriation from the 
city of Boston, decided to hold no races, the de- 
ciding votes being cast by non-active clubs, and 
the active clubs thereupon formed the Metropolitan 
American Rowing Association, to give races on 
" Bunker Hill Day." It includes in its member- 
ship the Harvard clubs and all of the better row- 
ing clubs. William S. Youngman was the primic 
mover in the organization and its first president. 



CHAPTER VIII 

THE AMERICAN ROWING ASSOCIATION 

Since the earlier days of the National Rowing 
Association, the college oarsman had practically 
ceased to row after graduation, and instead of 
going into a rowing club and keeping up the 
sport, he stopped handling an oar when he had 
rowed his last university race. Between club and 
college rowing there existed no communion of 
ideas nor sympathy; each went its way. When 
the college man did row after his university 
career, it was seldom with active rowing clubs, 
but more often with clubs where little outside 
racing took place. 

And the open regattas were not always desir- 
able meeting-places for a man who loved sport 
for itself, and now and again the establishment of 
a regatta somewhat on the lines of the Henley 
Royal would be discussed. The first difficulty 
was in selecting a place to hold it. Some talked 
of New London ; but that course was too bleak 
and barren and rough for races other than univer- 
sity contests, which seem to seek uncomfortable 
quarters, and the same criticism applied equally to 
the Hudson. 

191 



192 Rowing 

In 1902 a group of men met in New York and 
decided earnestly to set about the formation of a 
college man's regatta ; the result was the Ameri- 
can Rowing Association, the design and purpose 
of which is best given in their own words : " For 
many years the question of the possibility of hold- 
ing a rowing regatta in this country on the plan 
of the famous English ' Henley ' has been dis- 
cussed. Within the past few years evidence has 
been rapidly accumulating to show that the inter- 
est in rowing among college men and college 
graduates is increasing, and that the time has 
come when a forward step should be taken in 
American rowing. The increased interest in 
rowing is shown by the enthusiastic support given 
by undergraduates to newly formed rowing clubs 
in some of the universities and by the success in 
many places of interscholastic rowing associa- 
tions. From these sources have sprung a body 
of men whose appetites have only been whetted 
for the sport, and whose attitude toward rowing 
is very different from the average university oar 
of the past. More intelligent methods of training 
and a dawning idea that rowing is, after all, a 
sport and a recreation, and not a drudgery, have 
worked great changes in the attitude of the men, 
and many of them have now become actively 
interested in rowing clubs after graduation. It is 
from this body of men that the new rowing or- 



The American Rowing Association 193 

ganization has emanated, and on them that it will 
depend for its active support in the future. What 
they ask and what they must have is an opportu- 
nity to meet in competition others of their kind 
who have had the same rowing experience and 
whose ideals of sport are similar to their own." 

The management vested in a Board of Stewards 
whose power was similar to that of the Henley 
Stewards, and who might reject any entry without 
giving reason for the action ; the precept to be 
followed was that "entries shall be accepted only 
from those who take part in sport for pleasure or 
recreation, and who shall not have directly or in- 
directly received any money benefit from engaging 
in, or by reason of connection with, sports or 
athletic exercises." Another departure came in 
the matter of prizes ; as before mentioned, the 
prizes in many of the regattas were so valuable 
that they might be an asset to any impecunious 
athlete, and the American Rowing Association 
determined to present the individual winners with 
pewter steins, while to the clubs would go the 
challenge cups. 

The first Board of Stewards were nearly all 
college men and represented Columbia, Yale, 
Pennsylvania, Harvard, Princeton, and Cornell, 
as follows: Philadelphia — Thomas Reath, Dr. 
James P. Hutchinson, William Innes Forbes, 
Dr. J. William White, C. S. W. Packard, Edson 



194 Rowing 

F. Gallaudet, T. De Witt Cuyler ; Boston — 
F. L. Higginson, Jr., R. P. Blake, Dr. Hugh 
Cabot, E. C. Storrow, W. P. Henderson ; New 
York — Julian W. Curtiss, Henry S. Van Duzer, 
Dr. John A. Hartwell, W. A. Meikleham ; Ithaca, 
New York — W. F. Durand ; Cambridge, Mas- 
sachusetts — Ira N. Hollis ; Detroit, Michigan — 
Dr. A. H. Flickwir. 

This list is a notable one, but like all other 
lists chiefly distinguished for being notable, it 
did nothing. The actual management of the 
regatta came into the hands of a few men, and 
the rest of the board, who might have been of 
service and whose energy and influence could 
have made the races prosper, were absolutely 
inert. Therefore, instead of going forward and 
leaving nothing undone that might help the 
end, the gentlemen of the Board of Stewards 
have largely sat by and waited for the regatta 
to grow. The first regatta, in 1903, over a 
course on the Schuylkill of one mile five hun- 
dred and fifty yards, was fairly successful, and 
the Board of Stewards showed mettle and com- 
mon sense in disqualifying Titus, the sculler, 
and several other shady entries from New York. 
That was a sufficient warning that the " ama- 
choor " need not apply, and the class of men that 
rowed was very good indeed ; but then the energy 
seemed spent, and the regatta of 1904 was a prac- 



The American Rowing Association 195 

tical failure and drew few entries outside of Phila- 
delphia. 

The principles of the American Rowing As- 
sociation are so good and are so needed in our 
rowing that it will surely succeed if properly 
fostered. 



CHAPTER IX 

PROFESSIONAL ROWING, 1872 

Professional rowing has steadily decreased in 
importance with the rise of amateur rowing ; its 
time of greatest popularity was in the sixties, and 
though the names of great professional scullers 
were familiar enough for twenty years after, yet 
few Americans sought the money prizes, and the 
more prominent scullers came from Canada, 
England, or Australia. 

The professionals who stand out in the row- 
ing of the early seventies are Ellis Ward, J. A. 
Biglin, James Ten Eyck, Harry Coulter, William 
Scarff, and Eph. Morris. Ward and Biglin were 
strong rivals ; in 1872 Biglin beat Ward at Nyack, 
and another match was made for the following 
year at Springfield, but Ward overtrained and 
fainted when the race was but half over ; they 
never succeeded in meeting again. In 1874 
George Brown came down from the North where 
he had sculled away from Biglin, beat Scarff, and 
then won the championship from Eph. Morris. 
The rowing championship was as elusive as other 
professional championships, and it went to Harry 

196 



Professional Rowing, i8y2 197 

Coulter, but was regained in 1875 by Morris, who 
had two races with Coulter ; in the following year 
Scarff took it from Morris. 

The professional races in connection with the 
Centennial Exposition in Philadelphia drew a 
great crowd of scullers from home and abroad, 
and marks the first noteworthy performance of 
Edward Hanlan of Toronto, who won the singles 
without much trouble from a great field of scull- 
ers that included Coulter, Pat Luther, Morris, 
Ellis Ward, Thomas, Green, and Higgins of 
London, and Robert Peel and Brayleyof Halifax. 
Faulkner and Regan of Boston won the pairs ; 
but professional oarsmen were becoming more 
scarce, and the rowing event — the four-oared 
shells — found two foreign crews in the final, — a 
four of Thames watermen and a crew from Hali- 
fax, and the former won on a foul. The famous 
old Paris crew from St. Johns rowed, but they 
had lost their former speed. 

The best professional racing was about Boston, 
where the annual city regatta gave the only 
regular races of the year ; the other races were 
mostly matches or open regattas held by hotel 
men or for other advertising purposes. Court- 
ney turned professional after winning the sin- 
gles at the Centennial, and he had a number of 
races with J. H. Riley in New York State, but 
Courtney w^as always a little too fast for Riley; 



198 Rowing 

F. A. Plaisted joined in some of these races, but 
he was slower than either of the other men. 
M. F. Davis was coming into prominence ; first he 
won the New England championship by beating 
Faulkner, then defeated Ten Eyck at Peekskill, 
and later beat George H. Hosmer, another New 
Englander then coming up. Hanlan won the 
championship of Canada by beating Wallace Ross, 
and then Morris retained his American title with 
a victory over Pat Luther at Pittsburg. 

Several regattas were held during the next 
few years at Silver Lake, Massachusetts, and the 
usual races took place at Boston, but the greater 
part of the sculling happened in Canada. Court- 
ney's speed brought him forward, but a singular 
inability to defeat James Dempsey of Geneva 
started him on a career of remarkable accidents 
that were so frequent as to lead to a general 
belief that perhaps Courtney and not fate caused 
them. He had three races with Dempsey : in 
the first Courtney capsized after some one had 
tampered with his shell ; in the second he was 
run down by a boat, and in the third he led at the 
stake-boat, but, as he turned, caught his oar in a 
wire and went over ; no one was able to find the 
wire. Hanlan beat Courtney in a very close race 
at Lachine, Canada, and then came to the United 
States and took the championship from Morris. 
The Courtney- Hanlan race aroused much indig- 




EDWARD HANLAN 
The Fastest Professional Sculler 



Professional Rowing, i8j2 199 

nation, and it was freely said that Courtney had 
not rowed his best ; the real trouble was that 
Courtney, though a remarkable sculler and able 
to defeat any man, did not have the requisite 
nerve and could not bring himself to a stiff 
finish. 

Hanlan went on his first trip to England in 
1879 and won the English title, but returned in 
the fall for a match with Courtney at Chautauqua 
Lake on the same terms as the last race, — five 
miles with a turn, for ^5000. Because of the 
former close race this contest drew a great 
crowd, but on the night before the race some one 
sawed Courtney's boats, and the referee gave the 
race to Hanlan on a row over; Hanlan's people 
charged that Courtney had himself cut the shells, 
and Courtney replied with proposals that Han- 
lan's backers had made to him to divide the 
purse, while the public in general were disgusted 
with both men. It was planned to have another 
trial on the Potomac at Washington in the next 
year, and both men actually did come to the start- 
ing boats, but Courtney said that he was ill, and 
he stopped at the two-mile mark when Hanlan 
was far ahead. These fiascos caused the death 
of professional rowing in this country, and from 
that time forward the people could not be in- 
duced to believe in the fairness of any race for 
money; that belief was strengthened by the 



200 Rowing 

smaller men throughout the country, who lost 
and won races as it seemed the more profitable. 

George W. Lee, the amateur champion who 
had rowed at Henley in 1878, had turned profes- 
sional and achieved a victory over Wallace Ross, 
but Ross in 1880 sculled away from the fastest 
men of the country at Providence ; Riley finished 
second and Ten Eyck third ; Hanlan did not 
get a place nor did Jacob Gaudaur, a Canadian 
then coming into prominence. 

Hanlan was so fast that for a time he was 
barred from many of the American professional 
races ; George W. Lee ranked well, but three 
new men were coming forward, — Jacob Gaudaur, 
John Teemer, and G. H. Hosmer, the first from 
Canada and the other two Americans; Teemer 
from western Pennsylvania, the home of Eph. 
Morris, and Hosmer from Massachusetts. First 
Hosmer beat the others, then Teemer showed 
better than Gaudaur, and also rowed down Wal- 
lace Ross. Hanlan was in Australia, where he 
was beaten by Beach in 1885, and on his return 
Teemer also defeated the champion decisively, 
Hanlan capsizing when tired out. Double-scull 
racing was growing, and Courtney formed a 
double with Conley that beat Gaudaur and 
Hosmer, but then went down before Hanlan and 
Lee. 

The year 1886 found nearly all the best men 



Professional Rowing, i8y2 201 

competing for the International Sculling Sweep- 
stakes on the Thames in England ; Beach, the 
world champion, beat Lee in a trial and then 
defeated Teemer in the final ; later Beach out- 
rowed Gaudaur and Ross. Hanlan was still to 
be considered as a champion, and in 18S7 he was 
beaten by Gaudaur and then defeated him, only 
to be beaten by Teemer, who also won from 
Gaudaur and regained the championship. Han- 
lan was losing his speed through bad living, and 
in Australia in 1887 and 1888 met several defeats, 
two more from Beach and one from Peter Kemp ; 
it was in the latter year that Searle won the cham- 
pionship of the world. Teemer lost the Ameri- 
can championship in 1888 to William O'Connor 
at Washington in a hard race, and O'Connor 
afterward beat Gaudaur, but was beaten for the 
championship of the world by James Stansbury 
at Sydney, New South Wales. 

O'Connor, Hanlan, Hosmer, and Gaudaur are 
the names that close the professional rowing of 
America ; Gaudaur steadily improved. At Aus- 
tin, Texas, he won from the fastest men in the 
world, — Stansbury, the champion of the world, 
Teemer, Hanlan, and Peterson, and steadily re- 
tained his speed until he finally obtained the 
world's championship from Stansbury over the 
Putney-Mortlake course in 1896. Professional 
rowing had passed away because of the conduct 



202 Rowing 

of a few dishonest men, and, with the elimination 
of the professional contests of the Boston City 
Regatta in 1896, rowing for money practically 
ceased with the exception of a few minor matches 
from time to time. The most of the rowing was 
in Canada, and the American professionals turned 
to coaching. 



CHAPTER X 

STYLE 

From those outlines of style that have been 
given in the preceding chapters it will be appre- 
ciated that the American oarsman has gone 
nearly the whole gamut of rowing, and that pre- 
tentious and circumstantial must be any essay 
that attempts thoroughly to trace the develop- 
ment of our style. And such a minute dissertation 
is rather a useless effort, for, although rowing is a 
matter of small things, yet there exist certain 
characteristics of each period which sufficiently 
determine the stroke. 

It seems to me that our American passion for 
victory and our complete neglect of the personal 
equation have been the reasons for the absurdly 
slow progress that a half century has brought in 
our styles of rowing. England passed through 
a period of chaos, and came out with what they 
believed to be the best stroke, and it is certainly 
one that produces speed in an English crew. 
They have experimented from time to time with 
their stroke and have made improvements, but 
the changes have been real improvements upon 
the former idea, and never started, like our im- 

203 



204 Rowing 

provements, by first destroying the older stroke. 
It is a common fault to neglect the oarsman in 
all discussions of stroke, — to consider him a 
machine, and to take for granted that it is style 
and not strength that wins races ; therefore, when 
a race is lost, the first criticism is that of form 
and manner, and somehow it always happens that 
the crew leading home is said to have rowed per- 
fectly, and that all the other crews had faults. 
This may be true and it may not ; often the win- 
ning crew rows very badly but very strongly, and 
a third crew may have far better form and may 
be putting on a lesser strength in a far more 
economical manner. But in our happy manner 
we close our eyes to the faults of the victor and 
think that the losers are wretched ; the followers 
of the losing crew wag their heads sagely and 
declare that a change in stroke must be made. 

Thus no stroke ever has a really fair trial in 
this land unless it happens to win in the first 
year, and since winning is as much strength as 
style, our oarsmen have often discarded good sys- 
tems because just at that time their college did 
not turn out oarsmen. There is a vast differ- 
ence between oarsmen and men who are simply 
possessed of great physical strength, though the 
latter have often found favor with coaches who 
believe that speed for a boat will come out of 
every swelling muscle. 



style 205 

A survey of the fastest crews that America has 
known: in club crews — i\\Q Ataianta four that 
went to England, the Shoe-wae-cae-mettes, the 
Hillsdalcs, and the Vesper eight ; and in college 
crews — the Cornell six of '75, and their eight of 
1903, the Bancroft crews of Harvard, the '^"^ crew 
of Yale, and the Henley eight of Pennsylvania. 
Here are nine crews all using the slide, and every 
one fast, yet each is the exponent of a different 
stroke. But each realized that fundamental of 
all speed rowing, — men strong and enduring on 
the oar, no matter how slight their build, who 
took the water at the same moment, put on 
their power together, and left the water as one 
oar. This is the secret of every fast crew, and 
though we may wonder how the boat moves while 
the oarsmen are conducting themselves so out- 
rageously, yet a glance at their outboard form 
will show why they go so fast. In watermanship 
all of these crews were alike in their nicety, but 
in other respects varied widely. The club crews 
and the Cornell six had nothing of what we call 
body form, while the other college crews were all 
machine-like in their regularity. Some used a 
short stroke and some a long ; some caught hard, 
and others did not put on the power until the 
middle of the stroke. Their styles of rowing 
have all been touched on elsewhere, and from 
these examples which represent the speed of our 



2o6 Rowing 

rowing, I deduce certain propositions of rowing, 
nearly all self-evident, yet some of which are often 
lost in discussion. They are : — 

(i) Each oar must take the water at the same 
moment and with nearly the same power, so that 
a single and firm impetus may be given the boat ; 
if the power is not equal, one oar will be going 
faster than another and the firmness destroyed. 
It is seldom possible to have a crew of equal 
strength, yet, endurance being equal, a crew of 
even strength will go faster than one of the same 
total strength, half of whose members are stronger 
than the other half. The power, through the 
stroke, must go on in unison, whatever point is 
selected, and the oars must leave the water to- 
gether, else the late man will drag the boat when 
it is most important that it should be kept under 
way. 

The greatest known aid to this unity of action 
in a crew is the thole-pin, which we choose to 
call old-fashioned; when the oar goes against the 
pin for the catch it gives a sharp " thump," and 
the ear instantly notices any dissonance. The 
English find that their crews get together much 
more quickly with the thowls than with the swivels, 
and I believe that this feature of the thowls more 
than compensates for the lost motion so far as 
eights are concerned. 

(2) The angle of the oar to the boat at the 



style 207 

catch and the finish determines the effective reach 
and finish; beyond a certain angle much of the 
force will be spent in " pinching " the boat rather 
than sending it forward. With a short slide the 
body must swing far out in order to attain the 
proper angle, while with a longer slide the same 
angle can be had with little swing. The swing 
shortens as the slide increases. 

(3) The most effective work is done when 
the oar is at right angles to the shell, since all 
the power is then applied to the propulsion of the 
boat ; some crews in the past were speedy, — notably 
the older Cornell eights, the Davis crews of Yale, 
and the Hillsdales because their short stroke ex- 
tended over this arc of effectiveness and repeated 
rapidly, — while other crews have made speed by 
catching easily and then putting on their strength 
as the oar went into this portion of the arc. Only 
long rowing will make a crew use their strength 
at the same intermediate point of the stroke, and 
it is therefore better to catch hard ; for at the 
catch the crew is more easily put in time than 
at any other point, and thus, though strength is 
lost at the catch, an advantage will be had in 
regularity. The legs should not be used to 
strengthen the catch, but be reserved for the 
effective middle of the stroke. 

(4) The recovery should be slow enough to 
avoid checking the shell ; of two crews rowing 



2o8 Rowim 



6 



with the same power the crew will win that 
keeps the boat going between strokes. The oar 
should be rattled away easily from the body with- 
out a jerk, and the body started on the forward 
swing as the arms leave ; but the slide must be 
kept back until the arms are straight. A slow 
recovery allows the oarsman to breathe, but should 
not be slower than absolutely necessary, or strokes 
will be lost. With a long, powerful stroke the 
slide may be slower than with a shorter stroke, 
which does not give so much way to the boat. 
But the speed of the slide and the rate of the 
stroke should only be determined after a crew 
has been selected and experiment has shown the 
most effective rate. 

(5) The oarsman should be allowed all possible 
freedom in the boat ; the arms must be kept 
straight and merely act as lines connecting the 
oar with the body until the finish, when they are 
to be used to bring the oar to the body. No 
two oarsmen will avail themselves of all their 
strength rowing in quite the same form, and a 
crew that has every man swinging identically, as 
we like to have our college crews, is not getting 
all the possible power out of the men. A fairly 
straight back and a swing in a line fore and 
aft, are best with most men ; but, after a period of 
rowing, if a man shows that he can put on more 
power by leaving the set rules and the change 



style 209 

does not upset the shell, no correction should be 
made. This recognition of personal character- 
istics is one of the reasons that English crews 
beat our too machine-like combinations. 

There are several ways of rowing a boat with 
some speed, and it is silly to dogmatize and say 
that this way or that way is absolutely right. 
Each of us may have his opinion ; but when a 
crew rows fast and does not row according to our 
ideas, we will always find that the crew is rowing 
their own stroke well : a poor stroke rowed per- 
fectly will beat a good stroke rowed badly. Un- 
less a crew is made up of seasoned oars, it will 
take them a long while to get properly together, 
and a month, after selection, is the least time 
that can be allowed an eight to round into form. 

On the fixed seat, the American and the Eng- 
lishman rowed in pretty much the same fashion, 
though the British oarsmen were apt to swing 
more than our men and not to row quite so many 
strokes to the minute ; but, after all, the styles were 
not far apart. But when the slide came into gen- 
eral use, the forms diverged at once. Over in 
England they did not take to the slide so readily, 
and viewed it as a help to the stroke of the fixed 
seat rather than as an entirely new method. Its 
principal use was to increase the length of the 
stroke, and no one thought of cutting down the 
power of the swing. 



2IO Rowing 

The differences in the English and the Ameri- 
can strokes are due to the points from which they 
viewed the shde at its invention, and this is 
brought out in a controversy between a New 
York weekly and a London paper of the time. 
The Spirit of the Times (New York) said, in a 
history of the sliding seat: " Even when correctly 
rigged, few comprehended the real way to utilize 
the new invention. Some slid and did not row ; 
some rowed and did not slide ; some rowed first 
and slid afterwards ; some slid first and rowed 
afterwards. But all tried merely to engraft the 
new motion on to their old style, and none grasped 
the central idea that old things had passed away, 
and that the corner-stone of the new dispensation 
was the substitution of slide for swing." The 
sense of the remarks is apparent, and Land and 
Water (London) answered: "I fancy that the 
majority of our English oarsmen will hardly agree 
that the secret of good sliding is the substitution 
of slide for swing, but rather that the difficulty of 
the new departure is the art of adding the advan- 
tage of the slide to the swing without entirely 
spoiling the effect of the latter valuable motive 
power." 

Thus it came about that our strokes had the 
slide as a basis and the English the swing, and 
we steadily cut down our swing, and at the same 
time increased the number of strokes until we 



style 2 1 1 

had forgotten the swing altogether and made all 
the force of the stroke come from the legs, and 
the oar travelled only through the arc of greatest 
power. This stroke was the easiest to learn, and 
a crew might row fairly well with it after a short 
time, for it brought in only the muscles of the legs 
and did not require a special training of the ab- 
dominal muscles as in the swing ; but the quickness 
with which the power had to be applied did not 
give the oarsman a chance to breathe, and he 
needed the best of condition to row. The re- 
covery was not much thought of ; the prevailing 
idea was that the oar should be in the water as 
much as possible and out as little as possible. 

Cook brought from England a longer swing 
which helped out the stroke, but his best importa- 
tion was the theory of the recovery which he, for 
the first time, really appreciated. The early Cook 
stroke was not so effective in a boat of less size 
than an eight, because neither a four nor a cox- 
swainless six are heavy enough to travel between 
strokes. 

In 1876 Yale and Harvard went off to row in 
eights, and the others kept to the smaller boats ; 
the first race in eights taught Harvard the value 
of an easy recovery, and they, under Bancroft, 
took much of the Cook stroke and won while 
Yale was exaggerating the slowness of their stroke 
and hanging badly. Later Yale was carried away 



2 1 2 Rowing 

by the Davis ideas, and then "came back to the 
older system, while Harvard started on the experi- 
ments that have ever since continued at Cam- 
bridge. 

The rowing of Yale and Harvard in eights and 
of the other colleges in sixes and fours kept back 
the development of a stroke ; the stroke of an 
eight is not always best in a four, and Cornell, 
Columbia, and later Pennsylvania kept to the fast 
stroke. When these colleges started to row in 
eights they held their old stroke, and Cornell, es- 
pecially, because the men were strong and Court- 
ney taught perfect watermanship, made good 
records in the eights. Pennsylvania, like Cornell, 
had the advantage of a permanent system, and, 
though they departed for a few years from the 
coaching of Ellis Ward, they were under him 
most of the time, and gradually learned by defeat 
the proper way to row in eights. Columbia, after 
Mr. Goodwin's withdrawal, had no stability, and 
their rowing history is somewhat the same as 
Harvard's and about as checkered. Mutual jeal- 
ousy prevejited an exchange of ideas ; no crew 
cared to row quite like any other from the fear 
that they might be accused of imitation. It went 
on thus until our eights tried Henley and Mr. 
Lehmann came to Harvard ; then followed the 
English period of stroke which was not really 
the English stroke, but which aimed to be both 



style 2 1 3 

the English and the American stroke at the same 
time. Cornell, Yale, and Harvard tossed their 
heads away trying to catch hard, and exhausted 
themselves in their untrained swing. Cornell 
beat Yale and Harvard, and Pennsylvania, keep- 
ing the long slide with little swing, beat Cornell. 
Another change in stroke came with time, and 
the foolish parts of the Anglo-American stroke 
were discarded ; the crews went gradually back 
to the stroke with the long slide as a basis, and, 
where they had been taking only sixteen and 
seventeen inches, they began to give each man as 
much slide as he could use, and now nearly every 
shell is fitted with a twenty-seven-inch slide. 

The present stroke is briefly this : the reach is 
with the elbows at the knees, which are well 
apart ; the catch is made firmly but a//er the oar 
is in the water, — the oar does not strike the 
water with force as in many of the harder catches 
of old. As the body rises, the knees come to- 
gether, and when the body reaches the perpen- 
dicular, the legs are slammed down, and by the 
time that the slide has reached the limit, the 
body has swung just beyond the perpendicular, 
and the oar is brought in sharply, but without 
apparent effort — no jerk. Then the hands are 
shot down and away at once, the body swings 
forward, and as it passes the perpendicular the 
slide starts slowly forward. This stroke is rowed 



214 Rowing 

with variations by all the colleges at the present 
time. The movements are the same in all the 
strokes; but some catch harder, others finish 
more strongly, while some crews will place more 
emphasis on the middle. 

This is the stroke which one may now call the 
American stroke. It represents a greater unity of 
idea than at any time since college rowing began ; 
but that does not mean that the stroke is liable to 
continue, though it does seem that the era of 
sudden changes is over. 

After all discussions of stroke, the question 
arises at once, " Is the American stroke better 
than the English ? " and one must go far to find 
an answer. Our crews have been beaten in com- 
petition with the English with the exception of 
Columbia ; they won the Visitor's Cup at Henley 
in 1878, beating the Jesus College four; and this 
is the only really equal competition that has ever 
occurred. Our college crews have gone to Henley, 
and usually rowed against Leander, which means 
an eight that can represent the best English oars- 
men when called on to defend the Grand Chal- 
lenge Cup from a foreign crew. The Leander 
Club elects each year the leaders of rowing, and 
at any time they can collect the men to form an 
eight which will be the fastest crew of all Eng- 
land. The American crews have, on the other 
hand, all been undergraduate, and have never 



style 2 1 5 

had a chance to meet a really good undergrad- 
uate English boat with the exception of Cor- 
nell, who were beaten by Trinity Hall ; but then 
Cornell collapsed. Columbia's strongest oppo- 
nent was Jesus College, and in this equal match 
Columbia won, besides beating other college fours 
on their way to final victory. We, of course, 
cannot bring together an intercollegiate crew of 
any kind, because of the differences of stroke and 
the fact that few of our men row after graduation. 
Thus a comparison of stroke on the basis of per- 
formances is impossible. Our club crews have 
also been beaten ; but they were not exponents of 
the college stroke and do not come into the dis- 
cussion. The nearest rub for the Grand was that 
of Pennsylvania, and they, with a young under- 
graduate crew, gave Leander a hard race and 
were beaten by less than a length. Leander was 
better in physique and greater in experience, so 
that one can say with equal strength that Lean- 
der won because of a better stroke, or because 
of better men. That is how the whole matter 
stands, and it will never be settled until an 
American undergraduate crew rows an English 
undergraduate, or until some American university 
really tests the English stroke. 

The English stroke, of which we speak as 
though it had always been fixed, has gone 
through many a change ; but for ten years, or 



2 1 6 Rowing 

perhaps more, it has been the same, and now is 
a strong, forceful effort. As before stated, it is a 
grafting of the sHde upon the old swing of the 
fixed seat. The oarsman reaches until the sweep 
is at the limit of effective power, and then swings 
up hard, throwing all his weight into the catch 
with his slide stationary, and his toes well braced, 
the typical catch of the fixed seat. When the 
body has passed the perpendicular and the oar is 
coming into its most effective arc, the legs go out 
and the slide moves back over about sixteen 
inches, while the body continues back and the 
oar is brought in. Then the recovery is made 
as in our stroke. The rate of stroke varies with 
the race and the distance ; on the short Henley 
course it seldom goes below thirty-five and often 
to forty, while in the university races it is slower, 
but never below thirty. The Englishmen suit 
their stroke to the crew and the race. 

This stroke brings in nearly every muscle in 
the body ; the power and swing of the fixed-seat 
stroke is retained, — for one must never forget that 
some of the 6ld crews rowed very fast, — while 
the slide is brought in to give force at the most 
useful place, and also to put the body in the best 
position for a powerful finish. It is a reasonable 
stroke and seems to have more force-giving ele- 
ments than our stroke, which relies so much on 
the legs. 



style 217 

The other question concerns the effect on the 
oarsman, for every stroke must be considered 
from this point ; an effort that may have great 
power is faulty if the oarsman is too much fa- 
tigued. The Enghsh stroke brings a great deal 
of strain on the abdominal muscles, and the 
stomach is the first part of an athlete to give out; 
the stroke does not concentrate on the swing and 
uses all the body freely, but in our stroke we 
take all the work possible from the abdomen, 
believing that the legs can afford to do much 
more than their share. And because of this extra 
labor of the abdomen, all attempts to teach Ameri- 
cans a long swing have failed, and the crews so 
taught have " cracked " in hard races. Therefore 
we say that the English stroke is not good for 
American oarsmen. 

Leaving aside all questions of comparative 
merit, the American stroke is the more easily 
taught because it has as its foundation what most 
young men possess, — a strong pair of legs, — 
while to row the English stroke one must de- 
velop muscles that have never been much looked 
after. Thus to row in the British style one 
should spend many months on a fixed seat and 
perfect his swing before trying the slide. In 
England they have races on the fixed seat, and at 
Eton, a boy must master that style of rowing before 
being allowed on a slide ; even English oarsmen 



2i8 Rowing 

who have rowed for years will often go out in a 
tub pair without slides merely to strengthen their 
swing. Here in America, we will not go through 
this preliminary process, and we can never row 
with a swing until we get these fundamental ideas 
down. This is one of the reasons that the Eng- 
lish stroke failed in America, — the men would not 
go through the proper training; and, though the 
adaptations were radically faulty, the effect would 
have been far better had the early training been 
formed for the stroke. 

Perhaps, under the conditions of American 
college rowing, the stroke that we have worked 
out is the best ; perhaps it is not. The conclu- 
sion can go either way and be quite sound, for 
there is always present the man in the boat, and 
it is he who is going to row the stroke. Our row- 
ing is young. We may change to another style if 
our oarsmen and coaches can ever pool their 
ideas ; but, at any rate, whatever the stroke, the 
boat is going to go fast if the system is logical 
and is well carried out — and both systems are 
perfectly logical. 



CHAPTER XI 

COACHING 

Coaching of American crews and scullers — 
club and college — has been for years and is 
to-day entirely on a professional basis, and the 
crews that have been amateur coached can almost 
be counted on one hand. 

The early days of college rowing had a sim- 
plicity and freedom which could be well emulated 
to-day, and the matter of coaching was not much 
thought of ; the crew sat and rowed according 
to their lights, and the man who happened to 
have a little more light helped along his brother ; 
but a regular coach, with nothing to do but shout 
instructions, was unknown. Yale and Harvard 
rowing grew up in this way, and went along 
nicely because the desire to win had not yet 
developed to a mania. But when the younger 
colleges began to row, they had not the tradition 
and the experience to train their crews, and had 
to appeal to the professional oarsmen for instruc- 
tion. Thus the Massachusetts Agricultural Col- 
lege employed Josh Ward, and in their first year 
won from Harvard ; the professionals of the time 

219 



2 20 Rowing 

had a better knowledge of rowing than most of 
the amateurs, but their greatest cunning was 
in the rigging of the boats, — a part of rowing 
where they have always excelled. With the vic- 
tory of the " Aggies " and the rush of the smaller 
colleges to boating, the professional oarsman had 
full sway, and, though he never obtained much of 
a foothold at Harvard, — excepting Faulkner, — 
Yale always had a professional about and, in 
Davis's time, were fully under one, while Cornell 
hired men as soon as they could afford. Colum- 
bia started with one of the Wards, and later had 
Jasper Goodwin, an amateur, coach them. Penn- 
sylvania, with the exception of one year, has 
always been coached by a professional. 

Coming down to the present day, Harvard is 
the only college that has an amateur coach, and 
their policy is to have the elementary coaching 
done by professionals and the finishing by 
amateurs, — a willy-nilly system. 

Fortunately for our college rowing, the Ameri- 
can professional oarsman belongs to a far higher 
class than the English, and the rnen who have been 
most prominent in college rowing, such as Ellis 
Ward, Courtney, Kennedy, Ten Eyck, and O'Dea, 
have all been men who do not seek to give any- 
thing of a professional atmosphere to their train- 
ing, and in fact have been considerably more open 
in their methods than the amateurs that have 



Coaching 221 

coached. The false atmosphere that surrounds 
college rowing did not grow up because of the 
professional coaches ; its waning secrecy is a 
relic of the times when all rowing followed the 
conduct of the races for stakes. 

I do not agree with the Englishman that the 
presence of the professional coach is bad for the 
sport and takes away the amateur idea ; a wily pro- 
fessional might have a bad influence on boys, but 
the modern professional coach, who attains any 
prominence, is not a person of this kind, and 
any argument against their employment, on such 
ground, is unsound. But I do believe that the 
progress of American rowing will be helped by 
a rule that prohibits professional coaching ; not a 
rule that allows a professional to do all the coach- 
ing with a nominal amateur head coach above 
him. Such a plan is merely dishonest, and dis- 
honesty is bad for any sport ; but a rule that 
would absolutely do away with the employment 
of any coach would benefit the sport for two 
reasons : — 

First, because the coaching of a single person 
prevents the growth of a system of rowing, and 
secondly because the cost of a professional coach 
bars many colleges from the boats. I believe 
that in the early days the professional was nec- 
essary, for the college man knew nothing of row- 
ing; but had he been forced to learn, he would 



22 2 Rowing 

have learned just as the professional learned, 
and a thorough understanding of principle and 
practice would have been attained that might 
have been handed down from age to age. Our 
college oarsmen do not learn to row; the pro- 
fessional is there with his far greater knowledge, 
and the candidate takes his precepts just as he 
takes his class-room work, and does as he is told 
without thinking too much on the why of it. 
When he passes from college he knows nothing 
about rowing; he can only go through the 
motions. On the other hand the English oars- 
man knows each step, and when a man has rowed 
for two or three years he has a good idea of boat- 
ing, though his execution may be no better than 
that of the American. 

It is impossible on a professional system to give 
these rudimentary instructions. The coaching of 
the whole squad usually devolves upon the one 
man, and his position at the same time depends 
upon his success ; he has no time to go into 
things while the crew-making mill is in action. 

The whole system of rowing depends upon 
one man, and should a coach such as Courtney 
or Ward die, chaos would result ; we have come 
to think that the speed of the crew depends more 
on the coach than on the men, but that is non- 
sense ; he can only teach the men to row, he can- 
not make them row. With an amateur system, 



Coaching 223 

no one man would be essential to the develop- 
ment of the crew ; with a stroke that each knew 
well, the work of coaching could be shifted 
among a number of men. In England it is 
usually thought best not to have a single coach 
for the whole season. The only approach that 
we have ever had to such a system in this coun- 
try was in the years at Yale, preceding the trip 
to Henley when, with Cook as director, the 
actual coaching work was done by several gradu- 
ates, all of whom were in harmony and fully 
understood the stroke. 

Yale's rowing was then in the best position 
that it has ever occupied ; since then profes- 
sional coaching has gradually crept in. At Cam- 
bridge, the coaching has been amateur, but so 
singularly inefficient that other colleges have 
hesitated to adopt the unpaid way ; Harvard has 
never kept the same stroke long enough to have 
a school, the members of which could take up its 
precepts intelligently. 

I have no doubt that the inauguration of a 
universal amateur rule would lessen the speed of 
our crews for some years, for we have not now 
the amateurs who know enough to coach or, 
especially, to rig a crew. The employment of 
regular professionals is preferable to paying 
former college oars, and the only plan that is 
worthy of recognition is one that has its founda- 



2 24 Rowing 

tion on a system of rowing, and is administered 
by oarsmen who are willing to give up the time 
to the work ; and there are plenty such in every 
rowing university in spite of the absence of the 
true leisure class. 

Amateur coaching is bound to come in time ; 
the present race of professional coaches belongs 
to an older period, and the fact that there is 
no professional rowing to-day means that no men 
will rise to take their places. The club profes- 
sional, sometime an amateur sculler, has not the 
mental capacity of the greater professional coaches, 
and will not be able to take their places. It may 
be that our colleges will then hire their own grad- 
uates instead of instituting an amateur system, 
for the college man seems ready enough to sell 
back to his alma mater what she has given him 
in athletic skill. 

Rowing at the present time is a very expensive 
sport ; the shells and oars, the maintenance of a 
launch, the salary of a coach, and the keep of the 
squad while on the scene of the races brings the 
total for a university season around the ten- 
thousand-dollar mark. Small colleges cannot 
afford to row ; they will not go in fours and 
without a coach. With an amateur rule, a great 
portion of this big bill could be lopped off, and I 
do not think that the sport would suffer; one 
may play or row very badly and yet have a great 



Coaching 225 

amount of fun. The skill is bound to increase 
with experience, and the fun will not diminish. 
A real and scientific attention to rowing by col- 
lege men will result in a permanency of stroke 
and system which in time will mean speed. 



CHAPTER XII 

TRAINING AND THE ROWING TYPE 

Oarsmen of these days have httle idea of the 
torments of the flesh to which their predecessors 
submitted themselves with the idea that they 
were preparing to the best advantage for a boat 
race. The styles of rowing have changed, but 
no change has taken place more revolutionary 
than that in the methods of fitting men. 

Somehow or other the men of bygone days 
gained the idea that reserve flesh was bad for 
the athlete, and the whole training was taken 
with the idea of reducing the men to skin and 
bones; they were worked so hard and kept on 
such a diet that we of to-day wonder how they 
rowed at all. The training was modelled after 
that of the prize fighter who had to get down 
to a certain weight, and the ordeal was doubtless 
good for the sort of man who needed to have a 
great deal of fat taken off him and was none the 
worse for a thorough steaming of the bar-room 
life. But it took many years to convince college 
men that such was not the way to train, and the 

226 



Training and the Rowing Type 227 

change was due largely to the efforts of William 
Blaikie, the old Harvard oar. 

The training of Wilbur Bacon's crew at Yale 
is an example of the old way. That crew rose 
each morning at six, and then, in heavy flannels, 
ran from three to five miles on empty stomachs ; 
in the forenoon they would row from four to six 
miles and do the same distances in the afternoon, 
and these rows were not easy paddles, but hard, 
stiff trials mostly on time. They ate underdone 
beef and mutton, with the blood running from 
it, with now and then a few potatoes or rice, but 
no other vegetable, and drank weak tea in small 
quantities. 

Since the taking of water was apt to put back 
the weight that had been lost through perspira- 
tion, the men were given only what they posi- 
tively could not do without, and the best trainer 
v/as he who could train without water. The 
absolute limit was one glass for breakfast, two 
for dinner, and one for supper, and they had 
none between meals. The agony of such a 
course when men were rowino- in the hot sun 
and perspiring freely can be imagined, and it 
was further increased by the prohibition of 
baths ; some coaches would not permit their 
men to bathe for three weeks or more before 
a race. The results of this system are well 
given by Mr. Blaikie, who says : " No wonder 



2 28 Rowing 

that, with such a lack of variety of nutrition, 
sore boils broke out on them until we heard 
of one man who had seventy-three. No wonder 
that men could not sleep, and, getting up at mid- 
night, and faithful to their orders, not slaking 
their burning thirst, would bathe their heads 
and necks for the relief it brought ! No wonder 
that men rebelled and wet their lips occasionally 
when the law said no. We had the pleasure of 
rowing once in the same crew with a man who 
told us that, during the whole six weeks of train- 
ing, he had not drunk one drop of water! Is it 
strange that a great abscess broke out on his 
thigh, and that he rowed his race while in such 
a fever that his physician had, the day before, 
ordered him to bed ! " 

The Harvard crew of 1866 was the first to 
break through this foolish theory, and they 
trained with the idea of keeping all the flesh that 
they could and at the same time do the work ; 
they won. But it was not until the eighties that 
the force of the older rules was completely broken; 
the present sensible training is yet younger. 

The training of to-day keeps in mind the fact 
that the oarsman is human, and that he will not 
row well when fagged. Therefore he is given just 
enough work to take the fat from him, and to allow 
him to exert his best efforts over the course with 
the reserve strength for a hard finish. The weak- 



Training and the Rowing Type 229 

ening run before breakfast has passed away, 
though over in England they still take a morning 
run, strengthened by a cup of tea and a cracker ; 
running has, indeed, almost passed from our train- 
ing, and is now only taken in the early season. 
A little running is probably good for a crew so 
long as it does not stiffen their muscles, for it 
will strengthen the all-important legs. 

The winter practice is usually taken on rowing 
machines, or in a rowing tank, but the former are 
to be preferred ; the tank is supposed to familiar- 
ize the man with the handling of an oar, but the 
fact that the boat does not roll, and that the small 
basin of water soon becomes very rough, makes 
the practice of little use and only serves to take 
away elasticity by the dead-weight pull. The 
modern rowing machines are a better substitute, 
and, although watermanship cannot be taught, it 
never can be instilled outside of a shell, and the 
machine has the advantage in body form which 
can there be perfected. At the same time the 
condition of the man can be gradually brought 
up. The early rowing is very generally done in 
barges ; in some places the men are taken from 
the winter work to shells, but this method is not 
the best, and a short season in a barge helps 
to teach the elements of watermanship so that 
the candidate will not be quite helpless when he 
first sits in the rolling shell. 



230 Rowing 

During the early season, and in fact until two 
or three weeks before the races, the crews row 
only once a day; when they are taken to the 
training table, their diet is plain, but wholesome. 
Beef, mutton, and chicken, done as the man likes, 
together with plenty of fresh vegetables, and tea 
or coffee for breakfast. Men are cautioned not to 
drink too much water, but no set limit is now 
placed. In other words, the diet is simply de- 
signed so that the stomach will be kept in good 
condition, and plenty of variety is given ; the 
amount of rowing is also regulated by common 
sense. 

Coaching in pair-oars is indulged in during the 
early season to some extent, but not so generally 
as in England, and the men are coached largely 
as they sit in the shell. Some coaches row their 
men in pairs and fours during the early season in 
order to give individual attention, but this is a 
poor method, for the weight of the boat is apt to 
deaden the stroke of the pupil. It would be bet- 
ter to take the man out in a pair rather than give 
him a long pull dragging the whole eight. 

An amusing feature of the training of our 
American crews is its gravity ; a feeling prevails 
that this sport is a very serious matter, and that 
the least levity on the part of the oarsman is 
going to hurt his condition. Few visitors are 
permitted nearing race time, which is rather good 



Training and the Rowing Type 231 

because of possible excitement, but then the train- 
ing man is never allowed away from his quarters, 
and he is generally made to feel that he is engaged 
in a very great and sober occupation for which he 
must have the keeping attitude. The English- 
man takes his sport gravely, but his mien is light 
and joyous compared with that of an American 
college oarsman in June. 

A disagreeable and quite unsportsmanlike phase 
of the training is the secrecy regarding the crews, 
which is carried to most absurd lengths. Coaches 
somehow have the idea that the time trials of 
crews should be taken like the speed trials of 
horses, and that the mere view of their crew in 
action is going to do them not a little harm. 
Yale and Harvard have reached the ultimate of 
this silly notion, and their practice is quite child- 
ish, though it has somewhat improved in late 
years. The Freshman crew is no longer sent out 
in University jerseys, to be followed by the other's 
spies, while the University eight goes away on a 
course, but they still refuse to row in each other's 
presence, and keep out the substitutes with stop- 
watches. 

Up at Poughkeepsie things are better. The 
crews must row in the presence of rival crews ; 
otherwise, with the number of boats in train- 
ing, the greater part of each day would be spent 
in idleness. But time trials are still concealed, 



232 Rowing 

and quite too much mystery surrounds the prepa- 
ration. 

These actions are all survivals of the days when 
betting was very prominent at the races ; betting 
is still done to some extent, but it is largely the 
betting of college men and not of the book-makers. 

A gradual infusion of real sportsmanship into 
college rowing has been going on for some years, 
and in time this sport will have emerged from the 
atmosphere which now envelops it, and become 
a medium of real pleasure; at present the fun of a 
college oarsman is largely retrospective. 



CHAPTER XIII 

THE TYPE OF ROWING MAN 

In the days of the fixed seat, when the power 
of the stroke came from the shoulders and the 
arms, the oarsman was apt to be a great, broad- 
chested fellow, but with the slide the stroke had 
so many changes and called for so much more 
activity and general development that the long, 
lithe man came into favor, and the best crews since 
have been made up from that type. 

I have no knowledge of any crew being really 
fast, the members of which were either very heavy 
or very light; an average below 150 or over 175 
is bad. The light men have not the strength to 
pull, and the very heavy men cannot put on a 
force in proportion to their weight. 

The stroke-oars have usually been small men, 
with the activity to raise the stroke and to keep 
it up when necessary, and few crews with tall men 
at No. 8 have been very fast. Heavier men can be 
permitted in the waist of the boat, but even there 
few men weighing over 180 will be found efficient; 
the strength of a man above that weight must be 
enormous to make him of use. Forward of the 

233 



2 34 Rowing 

middle the weights should gradually lessen, so 
that the head of the shell may ride well out of the 
water. The weights of the famous Ward Brothers' 
four, ranging from stern to bow, were 158J, 153J, 
163, 154. Wilbur Bacons crew of 1864 had an 
average of 155, but at that time the reducing sys- 
tem was well in force, and that crew to-day would 
have rowed at ten pounds heavier. The members 
of a four may be lighter than those of an eight 
for four miles, and there are few good eights that 
go below 160 pounds, while more are above that 
average. The heaviest crew of which I have 
record is that of Bowdoin in 1891 ; it averaged 
181, and was not fast. In the Yale-Harvard races 
the very heavy crews have always been beaten, 
and the same story is true at Poughkeepsie. 

With the play of the legs in the stroke the oars- 
man is apt to be larger below the waist than above 
in distinction to the oarsman of the previous age, 
and the wiry man is generally preferred to the 
stouter build. 



CHAPTER XIV 

EQUIPMENT 

The mechanical side of rowing — the boats, their 
model and rigging — forms of itself no inconsider- 
able subject, and since the science of oarsmanship 
is a minute one, the consideration of all these 
mechanical aids to speed has interest, and can 
only be well treated at length. It is not here 
possible to go fully into the matter of oars and 
boats, and to trace their designs in variety as 
they changed with the better understanding of 
principle. 

The early rowing was done in barges rowed on 
the gunwale ; then came outriggers, Harvard 
being the first college crew to use them. The out- 
riggers were of wood, but during the fifties the 
iron rods came into use, and the boats gradually 
were made lighter, until 1856, when the first shell 
was constructed. The early shells were scarcely 
lighter than the modern barge ; but the science of 
boat-building went forward rapidly, and by cover- 
ing the light wood with silk, it was found that a 
smooth surface might be obtained, — an English 
idea that found some favor for several years but was 
discarded with better building. During the early 

23s 



236 Rowing 

seventies, Waters of Troy brought out his paper 
boat made of layers of heavy paper, and the light- 
ness and speed of these shells, which were on fine 
models and had a perfectly smooth surface, soon 
almost drove out the cedar fours and eights, 
although for singles cedar was usually considered 
the better. Walter Brown used a paper single — 
the first on record — and did much to bring them 
into the rowing world. The paper boat never 
found much favor outside of this country, and, 
though fast, they were expensive and of short life, 
the paper needing a new surface frequently. 
Many of the most notable victories of American 
oarsmen were won in them, such as the Cornell 
victory at the Intercollegiate Regatta in 1875, 
when their paper six distanced seventeen cedar 
boats; Columbia used paper at Henley in 1878, 
and also Pennsylvania in 1901, while the Yale '88 
record crew had a paper shell. The paper shells 
are now no longer built, and all the rowing is done 
in the cedar craft, which, when properly made and 
braced, are quite as fast. 

The design of boats has changed considerably 
during twenty years, the general tendency being 
toward the longer and narrower models. At the 
present time there is no settled design for a rac- 
ing boat, but the experiments in the way of very 
short and broad boats or very long and narrow 
have always failed. A shell must not be too stiff. 



Equipment 237 

and must ride with~ the nose well out of the 
water; and for this reason it has been found that 
too much bracing spoils the speed, and likewise, 
for the same reason, the aluminum shells, that 
have been made from time to time, have all 
been slow. 

The invention of the sliding seat is undoubt- 
edly the turning-point in the history of rowing, 
and the greatest aid to speed in a boat that was 
ever invented. In the stroke of the fixed thwart, 
the legs had some use, and much stress was put 
on their employment. The best oarsmen raised 
themselves from the thwart at the beginning of 
the stroke, and the advantages of a movement of 
a few inches on the seat were well recognized; 
gradually they began to make the thwart wider 
and, with leather trunks, to slide. In 1863 Robert 
Chambers, the champion, sculled a match with 
Harry Kelley on the greased seat. 

The first movable seat of which there is any 
record was due to J. C. Babcock of the Nassau 
Boat Club of New York, who fitted one to a single 
scull in Chicago in the year 1857, but he did not 
believe that his idea had any practical value and 
abandoned it. In 1861 Walter Brown, the sculler, 
used a sliding seat ; but he too had no idea of its 
merits and discarded it for a time, but in 1870 he 
took out letters patent. 

Mr. Babcock organized a crew of the Nassaii 



238 Rowing 

Club in 1869, and he found difficulty in properly- 
placing the seats to the rowlock. At a distance 
of nine inches abaft the thwart, the catch was 
strong and easy and the finish poor, while at fif- 
teen inches the catch was faulty and the finish 
good ; he adopted twelve inches as a medium. 
In the winter he had a rowing machine con- 
structed for work indoors, made further experi- 
ments, and found that both to catch and finish 
well the oarlock should move about six inches. 
Since this was impracticable, he conceived the 
idea of moving the seat, and fitted a six-oared gig 
of the club in that way, and they thus rowed at 
the opening day of the Hudson Amateur Rowing 
Association at Pleasant Valley, which is the first 
instance of the use of the sliding seat. The seat 
was a wooden frame covered with leather and 
grooved at the edges to slide on brass tracks. In 
this same year Walter Brown put slides of a 
similar description in the Yale boat. 

Neither Brown nor Babcock quite understood 
the principle of the slide, and both believed that it 
was merely a mechanical aid to getting the oars- 
man into the best position for the catch and the 
finish, and the fact that the legs could be made 
a part of the stroke was not apparent. It was 
found that the proper control of the slide made 
rowing very difficult, because a crew had to slide 
together as well as catch together ; few oarsmen 



Equipment 239 

used more than six inches of shde, and the smooth 
board was often preferred to the sHding seat, 
which went away too easily and was apt to break 
the force of the catch. Harrington Putman, a 
well-known amateur oarsman, wrote in favor of 
the polished board thus : " To the young oarsman 
the easy motion of the moving seat has many 
attractions. For a short distance his work is 
done with less labor and at a quicker pace ; yet 
the motion, so pleasant at first, causes too long a 
slide, which, in the end, only exhausts. 

" At the beginning of the stroke the powerful 
muscles of the legs are in a most favorable posi- 
tion for an advantageous outlay of strength. No 
sooner does the pressure commence on the 
stretcher than the tendency of the seat is to slide 
back on the wires, long before the body and arms 
are prepared. Thus the very freedom with which 
the seat moves causes but a small part of the 
advantage of the sliding motion to be secured. 
The area of the slide is so limited — usually 
as small as possible — that it is a disadvantage 
plainly felt at the finish. Though its surface is 
perhaps sufiicient at the beginning and the middle 
of the stroke, after the body has passed the 
perpendicular at the finish, the need of a larger 
surface on which to sit is plain to all." 

The victory of the Wards at Saratoga, in 1871, 
rowing on the board while several of their com- 



240 Rowing 

petitors had slides, strengthened the opposition 
to the slide. But gradually the idea that the legs 
might be a part of the stroke crept in, and with 
this idea the slide found more and more followers, 
until, in a few years, the board had passed out and 
the modern strokes began to develop. The slides 
were all short and ran on brass rods on the thwart, 
or sometimes the seat had runners which fitted 
into grooves that were lined with brass or glass or 
zinc, the runners being shod with boxwood or 
bone. The track was perfectly level, and the 
oarsman brought himself back by his toe-straps. 
In 1877 Thomas Farron, the oarsman, fitted wheels 
to the seat in order to reduce the friction, but the 
wheels were too large and the seat ran too easily ; 
smaller wheels were found to be better, and grad- 
ually the present slide with two pairs of small 
wheels on each side fitted in travellers came into 
use, and the slide was also pitched toward the 
stern of the boat in order to facilitate the recov- 
ery. The Englishmen still use the level slide, 
claiming, with some reason, that no help toward 
a quick recovery is needed, and that the incline 
only tends to increase the work in the stroke by 
forcing the slide uphill. 

The early oarsmen and scullers all used the 
thole-pins, in which there is considerable lost 
motion, and in 1874, Mike Davis, the professional 
oarsman and especial boating genius, invented the 



Equipment 241 

swivel lock, which, in a couple of years, found ready 
use on all sculling craft, where the lost motion 
was felt more than in the rowing boats. Later 
the sweeps began to use them, and the swivel, in 
one form or another, has banished the thole-pin 
from this country. But, as previously explained, 
the " thump " of the oar against the thole is of the 
greatest use in getting a crew together, and the 
swivel also does not admit of the hard catch that 
may be had on the firm and unyielding surface 
of the broad thowl. Even the best swivel will 
give a little at the catch, and in any stroke where 
the catch is hard, the thowl, or a swivel with a 
stationary fulcrum for the oar, is better than the 
swivel that is now universal. Any oarsman, chang- 
ing from the thole-pins to the swivel lock, has a 
feeling of insecurity ; there is much to be said 
on both sides. The swivels are unquestionably 
better in sculling boats and pair-oars, but it is an 
open question in eights and fours. 

In the manufacture of oars, there has been as 
great an improvement as in boats, and the sweep 
or scull of to-day is a marvel of lightness and 
strength when compared with the great, clumsy 
affairs of the old rowers. The theory of an oar 
is that of a lever: the blade of the oar is to re- 
main as nearly stationary as possible in the water ; 
the oar-lock is the fulcrum, and thus the boat is 
forced along. The shape and size of the oar- 



242 Rowing 

blade is designed to offer the greatest possible 
resistance to the water consistent with easy han- 
dling; the oarsman does not "pull the blade through 
the water," — a frequent expression ; the blade must 
not move, and its surface must be so great that 
the water will offer it a sufficient resistance to 
overcome the power that the oarsman is exert- 
ing, and all the strength of the man will be put 
into the propulsion of the boat just as though 
the end of the blade were fastened. Therefore 
the area of the blade is dependent upon the man 
who is to wield the oar, while the shape is largely 
governed by the conditions under which it is to be 
used ; the area should be no greater than is neces- 
sary. The length and the button or fulcrum are 
also governed by the convenience and the strength 
of the oarsman. 

The early oars and sculls had no buttons, and 
were much like the present oars of a fishing-boat 
with straight blades, and were usually about thir- 
teen feet long, while the sculls ran to eleven feet. 
The precise time for the introduction of the spoon 
blade is not known, but it happened somewhere 
about 1850, and by that time the buttons had also 
begun to be used. Since then the theories of 
various oarsmen have resulted in changes in the 
shape and size ; for a time sweeps were made as 
short as ten feet with eight-inch blades for use 
with the quick stroke, but the better men favored 



Equipment 243 

a blade around twelve feet with the button at 
forty-two or forty-three inches. In sculls Hanlan 
was the first man to use very short sculls, rowing at 
the Centennial with nine and one-half feet sculls 
buttoned at two feet eight inches, whereas the 
other oarsmen had ten-foot sculls with the button 
at two and one-half feet, regardless of the size. In 
sweep oars, the present almost universal dimen- 
sions are twelve feet with the button at forty- 
two to forty-four, and the blade seven inches 
wide. This blade has about the same area as 
the English six-inch blade, which is longer. 



PART II 
TRACK ATHLETICS 



CHAPTER I 

THE GENTLE ART OF RUNNING 

It is rather difficult for our modern conven- 
tional citizen to appreciate the gentle art of 
running. The limbs of our young men too 
rarely leap to the call of the chase, and our 
senses are fed on too complex foods to taste 
the simple joys of mere rhythmic muscular 
motion. No more does Atalanta lose her heart 
to the youth who can outrun her, and our bored 
Hippomenes stares languidly from the window of 
his club. Perhaps he fears that Atalanta — our 
new-made golfing Atalanta — would outstrip him 
in the race ; perhaps he has lost interest even in 
Atalanta, and prefers to keep his golden apples 
for himself. 

Sport we enjoy, indeed, — if it is fashionable, 
or violent enough, or somebody is going to win, 
— and it is true that we are beginning to know 
and love the out-of-doors. No one with a drop 
of blood in his body can miss the music of an 
eight-oared crew ; the splendid stress and shock 
as the elevens battle back and forth across the 
gridiron strikes fire in the tamest mind. Nor is 

247 



248 Track Athletics 

it that people miss entirely the excitement of the 
sprints, and the long-drawn-out struggle of the 
distance runs. We have in mind running for 
running's sake, freed from theatric settings, and 
without the stimulus of fighting for victory — the 
mere striding down the cinder path, or roughing 
it 'cross country. This is the sort of thing that too 
few understand, — and failing to understand, must 
fail to enjoy. The golden age is not gone, and 
there is just as much poetry in the world now 
as there once was, but we have lost a good deal 
of our boyishness and simplicity. There is a 
poetry of straight limbs and sunshine that we 
hear too little of nowadays, and the clothes with 
which we have so laboriously covered ourselves 
have shut our eyes to the beauty of our bodies. 

Really to love so simple a pleasure as running, 
one must have, of course, a healthy body and a 
mind at ease. He must have in him something 
of the savage and a sort of pagan delight in phys- 
ical grace and happy strength. Unless the spirit 
of the chase runs in his blood, he will not see 
anything in toiling mile after mile through brush- 
wood and meadow, and if civilization has too 
completely house-broken him he will not feel the 
thrill that comes from merely denying for the 
moment the tyranny of clothes and of streets, 
and striding out into the open country, except 
for his shoes and a few wisps of clothing, free 



The Gentle Art of Running 249 

and as God made him. The runner, more per- 
haps than almost any other athlete, realizes 
an ideal of unity and the elimination of de- 
tails. The eight-oared shell, when the crew- 
have caught the "beat," is a superbly beautiful 
thing. But the individual oarsman sits on a 
sliding seat, his feet are strapped into shoes, he is 
bound, so to speak, to an oar, which is hung in a 
lock smeared with grease, and the slightest slip 
in technique spoils everything. In other words, 
your individual oarsman is, artistically speaking, 
merely a part of the general mechanism, and 
there are very few moments when a crew is 
rowing so supremely well that each member 
of the eight forgets completely the mechanical 
difficulties and details of his work. The run- 
ner, on the other hand, is completely sufficient 
unto himself. Standing alone on the good earth 
with woodland and meadow spread out before 
him he can laugh aside, for the moment, trolley 
cars and trains and those foolish grooves called 
streets. When hill-top beckons to hill-top across 
the valley, he can follow, and when the purple 
horizon calls he can answer. 

The runner who has learned these things, who 
can, even vaguely, feel what Euphranor called this 
" subliming of beefsteak into poetry," has added to 
himself a sixth sense, which gives to the simplest 
physical exercise a new spirit and significance, 



250 Track Athletics 

which makes his body not a mere machine of 
convenience, but a thing in itself fair and fit 
consciously to express beauty. By such magic 
are his mute limbs given leave to speak ; and he 
may, so to speak, run his Parthenon friezes and 
his Praxiteles marbles, his Apollos and wind- 
blown Nikes, if he cannot paint or chisel them. 
Even though a man consciously feels none of this, 
and but enjoys his running for running's sake, he 
yet has within himself a simple pleasure that none 
can take away. The level beach in summer and 
the glory of its gold and azure, the open country 
in autumn, with frost in the air and the smell of 
burning leaves — these are the runner's sport- 
ing machinery, his yacht and hunter and motor 
car and coach. He can climb Jungfraus enough 
in a ten-mile chase across the rolling hills of his 
own home country, and he can answer the call 
of the wild while yet within sight of the spires 
and chimneys of the town. All that he asks to 
be happy is a pair of comfortable shoes and a 
wisp of something to cover him, only God's out- 
of-doors and the open country. 



CHAPTER II 

THE BEGINNINGS OF MODERN TRACK ATHLETICS 

Our English cousins had learned to run and 
had held organized track games many years 
before we went in seriously for track athletics. 
Early in the fifties athletic clubs were formed 
at Oxford and at Cambridge, and in 1857 the 
colleges of the latter universities met in the first 
intercollegiate contest. Those were days when 
the young men of America needed no mimic strug- 
gles in which to develop their manly virtues, when 
a sterner game was being played than that of the 
field or track. It was in i860 that the Oxonians 
held their first intercollegiate sports, and four 
years later, twelve years before our Intercollegiate 
Athletic Association was formed, the wearers of 
the light blue and the dark met in the first dual 
meet in Christ Church Cricket Ground, almost at 
the same time that our armies were fighting the 
fight of the Wilderness and Sherman was march- 
ing to the sea. 

Sport, as it exists to-day in America, that is to 
say what we may call "polite sport," was then a 
thing unknown. The athletic girl was then as 

251 



252 Track Athletics 

scarce as the dodo bird ; small boys did not then 
begin to dream of varsity initials when they put 
on their first pair of knickerbockers ; scarcely a 
person on this side of the water had ever heard 
of a spiked shoe ; and such a thing as a cinder 
path was unknown both here and abroad. Sport 
had not yet become important and had not acquired 
with us that quasi-fashionable significance which 
has made it at the same time one of the most blessed 
and one of the drollest phenomena of contempo- 
rary life. One could read about it in Bell's Life, 
but one generally did not read BelPs Life. Even 
in England there was much opposition to the 
growing cult of athleticism. Not even the par- 
ticipation in the new athletics of the socially 
eligible sufficed at first to make them appeal to 
the class that they appeal to now. The late 
Sir Leslie Stephen was referee at the first 
Oxford-Cambridge games ; men of title competed, 
and the Times observed that " the sports were 
held in the presence of a vast number of persons, 
including soriie hundreds of the fair sex, who 
took a keen interest in the proceedings," but 
even this favorable beginning failed to gild the 
sport with sufficient prestige to dazzle down its 
opponents. The same cries were raised then 
that are raised to-day against football and rowing, 
and Mr. Wilkie Collins took pains to caricature 
the whole movement in his " Man and Wife." 



Beginnings of Modern Track Athletics 253 

In America, naturally, the most of those who 
went in for running were professionals. Foot 
races were on about the same social status as 
prize fights are to-day. The crack sprinter of one 
town or neighborhood was matched for so much 
a side against the crack sprinter of another, and a 
crowd of worthies gathered to back their favorite 
and pat the back of the winner. Runners stripped 
to the buff in those days, or ran in tights and 
gymnasium trunks. Sprinters took the standing 
start, and the races were on any smooth path or 
stretch of level, firm turf. Of the men who ran 
in this country in those days of quaint half-caste 
athletics, one stands out rather noticeably from 
the rest. This man was George Seward, who, 
even in an age when training was only guess- 
work and established records unknown, so aston- 
ished his contemporaries here and abroad that his 
name has been handed down as that of a phe- 
nomenon. Seward was a professional, of course. 
He ran in this country and he ran in England — 
the same year that the Whigs were carrying log- 
cabins in political parades and shouting for " Tip- 
pecanoe and Tyler too " — and everywhere he met 
the best men and defeated them at every distance 
up to the quarter mile. Although his apocryphal 
one-hundred-yard dash in 9^ seconds is no longer 
accepted, his name still stands on the record book 
beside a one-hundred-twenty-yard dash of ii|- 



2 54 Track Athletics 

seconds, and a two-hundred-yard dash of 19 J sec- 
onds done as far back as 1847. Another wonder 
of those days — that is, the days before track 
athletics were regularly established in this country, 
although this runner shone some twenty years 
later than Seward — was Deerfoot, the Seneca 
Indian, whose performances on the track here and 
in England were like Leatherstocking tales come 
to life. Deerfoot ran as nature made him except 
for a breech-clout, a pair of moccasins, and a 
feather in his hair. He seemed practically tire- 
less, and swung on mile after mile in the same 
long, light, easy stride. In 1863, in London, he 
did twelve miles in 62 minutes 2^ seconds, and 
in the exact hour he did eleven miles and nine 
hundred seventy yards, according to the rec- 
ords that have come down. Among the pro- 
fessionals whom Deerfoot met in England was 
William Lang, who gave him all he wanted, and 
more. Lang's alleged record of 9.1 1 J for the two 
miles, made in 1863, is still accepted, although 
there is little likelihood that it is genuine, and for 
many years there was a story that he had run a 
mile in the preposterous time of 4.02. Various 
similar tales have come down from those days of 
haphazard athletics, but when they are examined 
closely one soon learns generally that the course 
was short, that a hurricane was blowing behind the 
runner's back, or that the man was running down 



Begimiings of Modem Track Athletics 255 

hill. Little more dependence, in fact, can be put 
on performances of this sort than on the dreamy 
traditions that have come down to us about the 
prowess of the ancient Greeks, whom exuberant 
classicists now and then credit with standing 
jumps of twenty-nine feet, and similar neat per- 
formances. And in this country, except for 
Seward and Deerfoot, little tangible remains of 
the running of the early days ; and it was not until 
the war was well over and the country had settled 
down to peace and prosperity that modern times, 
from the standpoint of sport, began, that track 
athletics came in with other sports, and Ameri- 
cans began to learn what is now so important a 
part of their curriculum — the art of playing in 
the open air and doing it for fun. 



CHAPTER III 

THE ORGANIZATION OF THE CLUBS 

Track sports, like other athletics, have tended 
of late years to become so nearly synonymous 
with college track sports, that the work of non- 
collegiate athletic clubs in the introduction and 
furthering of the games of field and cinder path 
has been obscured and almost forgotten, and, to 
the present generation of undergraduates, almost 
unknown. The growth and the clarifying of the 
amateur spirit, coming as it did side by side with 
the degeneration of so many athletic clubs into 
mere circus aggregations for professionals, to- 
gether with that polite glamour which our so- 
called " return to the country " has cast on all 
branches of sport, have made the non-collegiate 
follower of athletics a less important and interest- 
ing figure in the public eye. 

When, however, Mott Haven was yet a name 
unknown, and a cinder path — without which no 
cross-roads boarding-school is complete nowadays 
— could not have been found behind a campus 
in the country, and when an undergraduate who 
could run a quarter mile in a minute fiat would 

256 



The Organi{ation of the Clubs 257 

have been regarded as a Mercury by his class- 
mates, Httle crowds of young fellows working in the 
cities, who had no time to spare, and no motive 
except love of exercise and sport, were getting to- 
gether in the clubs which succeeded so tremen- 
dously for many years, and whose members made 
so many of the records now down on the books. 
It was the plain, ungilded crowd — young fellows 
who had to work all day behind a counter or a 
desk, and train at night — who brought track ath- 
letics into this country and put the sport on its 
feet. Of these clubs, the New York Athletic Club 
was in many ways the pioneer. It was the New 
York club which built the first cinder path, and 
brought the first spiked shoes into the country, 
which held the first real track meet, and which 
acted as the pattern and the stimulus for similar 
organizations in various parts of the country. 

The New York Athletic Club was organized in 
1868. William B. Curtis, — "Father Bill " Curtis, 
— now dead and gone, and his friends and fel- 
low-athletes, w^ere behind the movement. It was 
" Father Bill " who, with John C. Babcock, drafted 
the circular which was sent out to give the ath- 
letic public an idea of what was proposed. There 
had been desultory running going on for years, 
of course, the formation of athletic clubs in Eng- 
land had been watched with interest over here, 
and there was a considerable body of what one 



258 Track Athletics 

might nowadays call sportsmen of the old school 
who were glad to hear of such a scheme. In a 
letter to the writer telling something of these early- 
days, that veteran of the track, Mr. H. E. Buer- 
meyer, gives a few words of personal history, which 
would apply equally well, doubtless, to many an- 
other man of the same tastes and the same gen- 
eration. " I have been interested in sports ever 
since I was fifteen years old," he says, " having 
rowed in a boat race in 1854, and I can recollect 
reading about foot races in BeWs Life and the 
New York Clipper more than fifty years ago. I 
had several sporty English acquaintances, who 
were much interested in wrestling, pugilism, pe- 
destrianism, etc., and that's the way I got interested 
in those things as a boy, and have kept it up more 
or less ever since." The reply to the circular was 
prompt and enthusiastic. The club was organized. 
J. Edward Russell was elected president, three 
hundred members were soon enrolled, headquar- 
ters were secured in what is now Clarendon Hall, 
East Thirteenth Street, and on November 8, 1868, 
the club's first games were held at what was 
then the Empire Rink, at Third Avenue and 
Sixty-third Street. It was at these games that 
spiked shoes were first worn in competition by 
an American amateur. Mr. Buermeyer, who 
was treasurer of the new club and present at 
the games, gives the following history of these 



The Organisation of the Clubs 259 

shoes, which were worn by " Father Bill " Curtis 
himself : — 

" Curtis learned from Davis, a professional 
champion sprinter of that time, that there was an 
Irish shoemaker in New York who had imported 
some spikes from England, and who had made 
shoes for a few of the professionals. Curtis got 
Davis to make him a pair, and he wore them at 
the games. The only difference between these 
shoes and the kind they wear nowadays was in 
the weight ; the old style were heavier and much 
stronger." These games were crude enough, ac- 
cording to our present-day standards — the sprint 
was started with the tap of a drum — but they 
stirred up a lot of interest, and the membership 
of the club rapidly increased. In the following 
spring an outdoor track was found, and outdoor 
games were held, but it was not until 187 1 that 
the club acquired land at Mott Haven, and there 
built the first cinder path in America. At the 
spring games that year there were five events — 
the one-hundred-yard dash, the half, one-mile, and 
three-mile runs, and the three-mile walk — and the 
fact that the half was done in 2.23 and the mile 
in 5.25 gives an indication of the crude develop- 
ment of running at that time. The performances 
may have been poor, but there was plenty of spirit 
behind them, and the energy that had put the 
club on its feet made it for many years a leader 



26o Track Athletics 

and pioneer. It was the New York Athletic Club 
which held the first winter indoor games, in 1878, 
in what is now Madison Square Garden, and it 
was under the same auspices that, in 1S77 and in 
1883 respectively, the first steeplechase and the 
first cross-country race were held. Not only was 
this club the pioneer of such organizations, but 
it was destined to increase in wealth and impor- 
tance for many years, and to survive with at least 
a measure of its acquired prestige when many of 
its later rivals had succumbed to a decline in 
interest in club athletics or the blight of profes- 
sionalism. 

The success of the New York Athletic Club 
started other clubs patterned on similar lines all 
about the metropolis. Staten Island, with its 
fresh air and open country and quiet water, 
only a ferry-boat's journey from the heart of the 
city — seemingly a sort of paradise for the office 
slave — was naturally one of the first to follow 
suit. The Staten Island Athletic Club was or- 
ganized in 1876. The boating clubs, which up 
to that time had represented the athletic activity 
of the island, were soon, to a considerable extent, 
drawn into it, and another band of recruits had 
been added to the now rapidly growing track- 
athletic army. The Manhattan Athletic Club, 
subsequently to become the ill-starred Knicker- 
bocker, started up as a strong and active rival of 



The Organisation of the Clubs 261 

the New York Athletic Club in 1877. The place 
which the Manhattan Club soon held in city-bred 
athletics is suggested vividly enough by the mere 
mention of the fact that Lawrence E. Meyers was 
one of its runners. There were plenty other men 
in the club in those days to make it famous — 
W, Byrd Page, the high jumper, Westing, Cope- 
land, and later Conneff, the mile champion — 
and its colors were soon being carried to victory 
against the strongest fields in the country, and not 
infrequently abroad. It is through one of those 
ironies of fate that the club-house at Madison 
Avenue and Forty-fifth Street, which was looked 
upon as the best in the country when the Knicker- 
bocker Club went into it, is now the home of a 
twentieth-century woman's club. 

The rest of the metropolitan district soon fell 
into line. The Jersey suburbs organized their 
clubs, of which the Orange Athletic Club was to 
become the most notable, and in Brooklyn and in 
many of the less sophisticated corners of Man- 
hattan small organizations sprang into being, of 
which those devoted to cross-country running, 
such as the Suburban Harriers, Prospect Harriers, 
and Westchester Harriers, were founded perhaps 
on the solidest and healthiest basis — the desire of 
vigorous young men to take vigorous exercise in 
the open air, untrammelled by clothes, gymnasium 
air, or the toy freedom of a twenty-lap track. 



262 Track Athletics 

While this was going on in the East a similar 
activity was making itself felt all the way west- 
ward to the Pacific. California, which in many 
ways has always been less Western than the West, 
began to take an interest in track athletics at 
almost the same time that they came into favor 
in the extreme East. Mr. William Greer Harrison, 
for many years the president of the Olympic Club 
of San Francisco, is my authority for the state- 
ment that amateur track athletics really began on 
the Pacific coast in 1877. "In that year," says 
Mr. Harrison, " the Olympic Club began to foster 
the sport on an amateur basis. Athletic events had 
occurred before that, but they had been of a semi- 
professional character, and did not receive the 
support of amateurs. There were no spacious 
outdoor grounds at that time, nor handsome 
dressing-rooms, with all the appurtenances of 
an up-to-date training quarters, with attendants, 
trainer, and rubbers to take athletes in hand after 
or before exercising. It was not an unusual 
thing, however, to see a dozen athletes undress 
on the shady side of a rail fence at the old Bay 
District horse track preparatory to taking their 
morning or evening exercise, after which they 
dressed without a shower-bath or rub-down." 
The Merion Cricket Club soon became a com- 
petitor of the Olympic Club, and in 1884 a team 
from the former organization entered the coast 



The Organi{ation of the Clubs 263 

championship and won out. The Merion men 
repeated the beating in 1885 and 1886, and finally 
the old Olympic Club, recognizing that discretion 
was the better part of valor, absorbed the new 
organization and elected Mr. Harrison, who was 
at the head of it, president of the combined or- 
ganization. With the coalition of these two clubs 
and the appearance in the following year of Victor 
H. Schifferstein, the sprinter and jumper, and 
quite the most unusual athlete that the far West 
had yet produced, a new and lively interest in 
track athletics spread along the coast. Small 
clubs began to spring up, and although they were 
destined to give way eventually to the growing 
interest in college athletics, Berkeley was still an 
infant and Stanford yet unborn, and the time far 
distant when a team of unders^raduates from the 
coast should contest with the college teams of 
the East, and when California collegians should 
be winners at Mott Haven. Oregon and Wash- 
ington followed California, and there were pres- 
ently cinder paths at Seattle and Portland, and 
plenty of good men to run on them. Of the 
clubs of the far Northwest the Multonomah of 
Portland was and is the best-known and strong- 
est. Owing, doubtless, to the fact that social 
lines are less rigidly determined in that part of 
the country, the coast athletic clubs have pre- 
served this prestige more successfully than those 



-264 Track Athletics 

of the East, and several of them still have a 
potency, for their own neighborhoods, social as 
well as athletic. 

At the same time that the Pacific Slope was 
thus getting into the game, the Middle West, led 
by Detroit, began to enter the running. The 
Detroit Athletic Club, which was the centre of 
Middle Western athletic activity for a number of 
years, was organized in 1886. It was a success 
from the start. "Jack" McMasters, the club's 
trainer, laid out its cinder path and also the foun- 
dations of that knowledge and skill which years 
afterwards were to decorate his watch-chain with 
little gold footballs. Many capable performers 
were developed by the Detroit Club, but the 
most famous of them was John Owen, Jr., and 
although the prestige of the organization has 
long since waned, the initials " D. A. C." are 
fixed in the record books after the name of John 
Owen, Jr., the first amateur in the country to win 
the hundred in better than even time. It was at 
Detroit that the first national meeting of the 
Amateur Athletic Union of the United States 
was held, in 1888. There were one hundred and 
twenty athletes entered for this event from all 
parts of the country. The East sent its best men. 
Condon, of the New York Athletic Club, threw 
the fifty-six-pound weight farther than it had ever 
been thrown before, and all in all the meet was a 



The Organisation of the Clubs 265 

complete success. Two years later, at the annual 
meeting of the Amateur Athletic Union in 
Washington, on October 10, a reorganization of 
the union was voted ; the various branches which 
now cover the whole country were organized in 
February, 1891, and on March 18, 1891, the re- 
organized Amateur Athletic Union held its first 
meeting. It was at this time, the beginning of 
the nineties, that club athletics had reached the 
height of their success. 



\ CHAPTER IV 

TRACK ATHLETICS IN THE COLLEGES 

The colleges, meanwhile, somewhat conserva- 
tive as they had been at first in taking up the 
new sport, had long been pursuing it with under- 
graduate enthusiasm, and the records, poor enough 
at first, had begun to approach within striking dis- 
tance of the figures of what one might call modern 
times. Running was taken up in the Eastern col- 
leges in the early seventies, and the Intercollegi- 
ate Athletic Association was organized in 1876; 
but it was not until well along in the eighties and 
nineties that anything like the present widespread 
interest was aroused. It is difficult to realize, in 
these days of athleticism, how primitive, athleti- 
cally speaking, the time was. It must be re- 
membered that when running was taken up by 
the undergraduates the people at large had not 
yet "discovered the country"; the bicycle, which 
effected a sort of social revolution to the genera- 
tion which used it, was not yet invented ; and the 
value of exercise and outdoor sport, together with 
all our modern erudition in the way of anthropo- 
metric charts and pulley-weight pedagogy, were 

266 



Track Athletics in the Colleges 267 

alike unknown. President Eliot, in speaking of 
the average college freshman of those days, 
describes him as a person of " undeveloped 
muscle, a bad carriage, and an impaired diges- 
tion, without skill in out-of-door games, and un- 
able to ride, row, swim, or shoot." Some of the 
descriptions of the Hemenway gymnasium — an 
antique and inadequate enough building in the 
opinion of the contemporary undergraduate — 
written when that building was new, give one 
some idea of the naivete of those days. " Look 
upward ! " says one of these enthusiasts, referring 
to the main floor of the room in which the Har- 
vard undergraduates are wont to huddle, juggling 
dumb-bells and toying with chest weights ; " what 
a vast network of iron frames and crossing bars 
and rods, all seeming at first to be hopelessly 
entangled with each other until they form almost 
a ceiling by themselves ! Here hang stout cotton 
ropes and there hemp ones, . . . sloping ladders, 
some down here by you, some away up there in 
the roof! . . . Huge mats a foot thick lie spread 
on the polished floor beneath, ready for you to 
fall ; . . . that broad board sloping sharply upward 
is a springboard made purposely for high or long- 
distance jumping when first you take a sharp run, 
then spring from the board with all your might 
and main ; . . . over there is a glorious stationary 
springboard ten feet long ; . . . pull these weights 



268 Track Atbletlcs 

past your sides and you have the prince of chest 
expanders," etc., etc. O prince of chest ex- 
panders ! O vast roof and rope tangles ! O 
glorious great stationary springboard, ten feet 
long ! Times have changed, indeed, and in these 
matters we are become sadly sophisticated. 

Even the undergraduates of those days must 
have been different if we are to accept the words 
of a writer in the Outing of some twenty years or 
so ago. Speaking of the slowly growing interest 
in athletics and of Dr. Sargent, whom the con- 
temporary Harvard undergraduate, if we mistake 
not, irreverently dubs Dr. Sourgent and takes 
none too seriously, he says, " His tolerant and well- 
balanced mind and personal popularity well fit 
him for working among college men, who often 
require a little coaxing and stimulus to draw them 
from their studies." The same observer mentions 
a hare-and-hound run which was tried at Cam- 
bridge in 1882 as "that Rugby sport," quaintly 
notes that Walter Soren " leaped nine feet six 
inches with the pole," and on viewing the young 
men at work on Jarvis Field in their parti- 
colored athletic clothes he is gravely reminded 
of the "picturesque crimson doctors' gowns of 
Oxford, England." 

The beginning was made toward a new order 
of things when the first races were held at Sara- 
toga, in July, 1874, as a sort of side exhibit to the 



Track Athletics in the Colleges 269 

regatta of that year. Something of an idea of the 
desultory character of the running of that day 
may be gathered from the fact that the contestants 
in those Saratoga races were quite as likely as not 
to have rowed in the varsity boat the day before. 
Of course, for a runner to subject his legs to the 
heavy leg drive of sliding-seat rowing is about as 
fatal to speed as it would be to attach to them a 
ball and chain. The crude races at Saratoo-a in 
the summer of 1874 aroused a great deal of inter- 
est, however, and in commenting on them the 
Harvard Advocate expressed a sentiment that 
was shared in other colleges when it said editori- 
ally : " A new door has been opened for men who 
really mean to be what they ought physically, and 
it is pleasant to see already signs of a brisk rivalry 
in this direction. The legs — long neglected 
members — are now to be put to their best, and 
at last we have the various foot contests so well 
known in the British universities." There were 
five events at the first meet in 1874 — the mile, 
the one-hundred-yard dash, the three-mile run, 
the one-hundred-twenty-yard hurdles, and the 
seven-mile walk. This latter preposterous and 
distressinsf contest was much thouo-ht of in those 
days, and the audiences of the late seventies and 
early eighties took a more vigorous interest in 
such events than, curiously enough, they did in 
the sprints and hurdles. The results of this first 



270 Track Athletics 

meet were as follows : One-mile run, won by 
Copeland of Cornell ; time, 4 minutes 58 sec- 
onds ; second, Van Derometer of Princeton ; 
third, Reed of Columbia. Copeland was 14 sec- 
onds ahead of his nearest rival. One-hundred- 
yard dash, won by Nevin of Yale ; time, 10 J 
seconds ; second. Potter of Cornell. Three-mile 
run, won by Downs of Princeton ; second, 
Goodwin of Columbia. One-hundred-twenty- 
yard hurdles, won by Maxwell of Yale ; time, 
20^ seconds ; second, Marquand of Princeton ; 
third. Rives of Harvard. Seven-mile walk, won 
by Eustis of Wesleyan ; time, 71 minutes ; second, 
Hubbell of Williams; third. Price of Columbia. 

In the following year, 1875, a committee of 
Saratoga citizens arranged the games, which con- 
sisted of ten events, and were more ambitious and 
successful in every way than those of the previous 
year. Pennsylvania made her first appearance at 
the intercollegiates in these games in the person 
of H. L. Geyelin, '77, and it was here that the red- 
and-blue colors of Pennsylvania were first worn in 
an intercollegiate contest. Amherst also entered 
the running in 1875, and her team carried back 
three prizes: Barber, 'jj, taking first in the mile 
run in 4 minutes 44! seconds, and second place 
in the half-mile, while Morrell, 'yj, won the three- 
mile run in 17 minutes j^ seconds. Of. the 
points, Harvard, Yale, and Amherst each won 



Track Athletics in the Colleges 271 

two firsts, and one first went to Williams, to 
Union, to Wesleyan, and to Cornell. Mr. James 
Gordon Bennett added to the interest of these 
early games by donating handsome cups, and in 
1875 the Saratoga citizens' committee also put up 
valuable cups for prizes. By this time the interest 
in the new sport was so lively and so general in 
the colleges that the formation of an intercolle- 
giate association for the purpose of holding track 
contests began to be seriously considered. Mr. 
George Walton Green of Harvard, now dead, Mr. 
Creighton Webb of Yale, Mr. Clarence W. Francis 
of Columbia, and Mr. H. Laussat Geyelin of 
Pennsylvania were among those who were most 
actively interested in the matter, and who finally 
issued a call to the colleges for a meeting to 
organize the association. The first meeting was 
held at the Fifth Avenue Hotel, in New York 
City ; the association was presently formed and 
the first regular intercollegiate championships 
were held at Glen Mitchell, at Saratoga, during 
Regatta week in 1876. Princeton won four 
firsts — the half-mile run, done in the now ridicu- 
lously slow time of 2 minutes 16^ seconds, the 
three-mile walk, the shot put, and throwing the 
baseball. Williams won two firsts — the one-hun- 
dred-yard dash, done in 1 1 seconds, and the quar- 
ter-mile, done in 56 seconds. The other four 
events were divided among four colleges: Dart- 



2 72 Track Athletics 

mouth taking the mile in 4 minutes 58|- seconds, 
Yale the high hurdles in 18J seconds, Columbia 
the high jump with 5 feet 4 inches, and Pennsyl- 
vania the broad jump with a leap of 18 feet 3^ 
inches. 

Harvard and Yale, who were each destined to 
capture one of the two " Mott Haven " cups that 
have since been awarded " to the college winning 
the intercollegiate games the greatest number of 
times in fourteen years," were quite snowed under 
during the first few years of the intercollegiate 
games by Princeton, Columbia, Pennsylvania, 
and the smaller colleges of New England. Har- 
vard did not win a first place at the regular inter- 
coUegiates until 1879, and at Yale the apathy to 
track athletics was so effective that no one was 
entered after the games in 1876 until 1880. By 
that time, however, track athletics had begun to 
be pursued with such enthusiasm at Cambridge 
that it was not until six years later that Yale 
developed a team that could meet her natural 
rival on even terms. 

The Harvard track men of those days had one 
advantage over their brethren in New Haven in 
that their field was near at hand. Jarvis Field, 
where the early running was done, is only a stone's 
throw from the dormitories in the Harvard Yard, 
and the men could leave their lectures at ten 
o'clock, for example, take their runs, bathe. 



Track Athletics in the Colleges 273 

dress again, and be back in their seats for an- 
other recitation within the hour. The Yale field, 
on the other hand, was on the outskirts of New 
Haven. It was not practicable to attempt going 
there until the late afternoon when lectures were 
over, and even that meant using up about all that 
was left of daylight before dinner time. As a re- 
sult only those men who were very keen for the 
sport or particularly good at it went in for run- 
ning. This difference in conditions at the two 
universities may have accounted, partially, for the 
difference in the way track athletics developed 
at 'Harvard and at Yale during the eighties. The 
Harvard teams were all comparatively large ; that 
is to say, a great number of men of average 
ability trained for them, and as a result all-round 
teams were put into the field. At Yale, on the 
other hand, track athletics were a desert waste 
punctuated by a few oases-like star performers. 
The more normal and pleasurable conditions at 
Cambridge resulted as normal and healthy condi- 
tions in any sport always will result, — in sending 
into the field teams of superior merit, — and it was 
not until the early nineties, when Yale adopted the 
Harvard theory of developing a large number of 
moderately good men, that the track teams came up 
to the standard set by her nines and crews. One 
of the pleasantest features of the smaller colleges is 
the nearness and neighborliness, generally, of the 



2 74 Track Athletics 

athletic to the studious and social side of under- 
graduate life. Men may sit in their window-seats 
and look up from their books to see the eleven 
practising signals at the farther end of the campus, 
or have their meditations enlivened by what has 
been called the sweetest of all sounds, — the crack 
of a willow bat against a baseball. This delight- 
ful neighborliness is generally crowded out sooner 
or later in the larger universities ; but in the Har- 
vard of the eighties it was at least partially pre- 
served, and it was not only pleasant, but it resulted, 
doubtless, in bringing out many men who might 
never have tried their hands or legs at track sport, 
or known how good they really were. In 1891, 
for instance, Finlay broke the record at Mott 
Haven in the hammer throw. Finlay took up 
the hammer-throwing merely because one day, as 
he was crossing Holmes Field on his way to 
practise with the eleven on Jarvis Field, he hap- 
pened to pick up a hammer, and hurl it some 
eighty feet at the first throw. Many another 
weight-thrower or runner happened into the sport 
in a similar way, and it is almost a tradition of the 
track that the men who make the records gener- 
ally have never worn a spiked shoe before they 
came to college. 

The Harvard Athletic Association was organ- 
ized in the autumn of 1874, after the first inter- 
collegiate races at Saratoga ; four years later the 



Track Athletics in the Colleges 275 

Hemenway Gymnasium, the best gymnasium in 
the country at that time, was built, and in 1883 a 
quarter-mile track was laid on Holmes Field. 
There was no better track in the country, and the 
men who used to run on it firmly believed that 
there was none so good, and with this track and 
an adequate gymnasium and field-house almost 
adjoining the Yard, there was every reason why 
track athletics should be pursued with enthusi- 
asm. That this was the case, the teams of those 
days are proof enough, and it was in the eighties 
— in the days of Evart Wendell, Walter Soren, 
Goodwin, Easton, Baker, Rogers, and Wells — 
that for seven years straight the Mott Haven 
championship was won by Harvard. 

In all the Eastern colleges at that time a laissez 
faire system of athletics existed, and the methods 
of training, particularly at Harvard and Yale, 
were curious and unlovely. Not only were pro- 
fessional trainers employed, but each athlete chose 
his own — often a professional sprinter or walker 
who had no connection with the college. There 
was great rivalry among these trainers. Each 
one was desirous of the advertising which would 
come from having put a winner into the field, and 
the result was that the weaker candidates were 
neglected, while disputes and jealousies arose 
over the handling of the favored men, which were 
anything but in keeping with the spirit of a 



276 Track Athletics 

gentleman's sport. The beginning of better 
things came in 1882, when a faculty committee, 
consisting of Professor Charles Eliot Norton, 
Professor J. W. White, and Dr. Sargent, was ap- 
pointed at Harvard, and on their recommenda- 
tion Mr. J. G. Lathrop was engaged as a general 
trainer and supervisor of track athletics. Mr. 
Lathrop was made " assistant in the department 
of physical culture " ; the track-team trainer was 
made amenable to the faculty, and his status as 
an instructor was, and has continued to be, the 
same as though he taught trigonometry or Greek. 
Further than this, the committee prohibited pro- 
fessionals from appearing on the field, made the 
regulation that " no college club or athletic associa- 
tion shall play or compete in any athletic sport 
with professionals," and compelled all students to 
pass a physical examination satisfactory to the 
director of "the gymnasium before they were per- 
mitted to compete in any athletic sport. These 
reforms of 1882 mark, in a way, the beginning 
of the ne\V and modern epoch of track athletics, 
and with them the oldest of our universities 
set her seal on a sane and gentlemanly ideal of 
sport. 

At Yale, meanwhile, as we have already sug- 
gested, the interest in track athletics was for 
many years perfunctory. There had been several 
excellent individual athletes, such, for example, 



Track Athletics in the Colleges 2']'] 

as Nevin, '76, Maxwell, '75, and Trumbell, '76, 
and there had been cross-country running of a 
desultory sort from a time as far back as 1869. 
In that year teams from the junior and sophomore 
classes ran a four-mile race through the snow in 
34 minutes and 54 seconds, and in 1870 there was 
a three-mile race with dollars for prizes; but the 
new sport did not get the grip on the Yale 
undergraduates that it did on other New Eng- 
land colleges. " Foot races," observes the editor 
of one of the Yale magazines of those days, "are, 
after all, very old-fashioned affairs, and are nowhere 
in comparison w^ith the exhilarating game of base- 
ball." In spite of the success of Maxwell, 
Trumbell, and Nevin — the latter, with typical 
Yale pluck and ingenuity, won the hundred in 
1874 by catching the tape with his hand when he 
was a yard away from it — Yale sent no men to 
the intercollegiate during the three years im- 
mediately following the formation of the Inter- 
collegiate Athletic Association, and up to the year 
1886 Harvard continued to win the Mott Haven 
cup each year, with Columbia second and Yale a 
poor third. Among the individuals who did 
what was clone in those years for the honor of 
the Blue, Brooks, '85, was of the most famous. 
T. DeWitt Cuyler was another of these individual 
stars. Mr. Cuyler was sent down to run the mile 
in the spring of 1880. Mr. Evart Wendell was 



278 Track Athletics 

running the sprints for Harvard, and he and Mr. 
Cuyler were friends. Just before the games were 
called, the rubber who was accustomed to prepare 
the Harvard sprinter for action went over to the 
Yale quarters, presented Mr. Wendell's compli- 
ments, and begged to be allowed to apply his skill 
upon the limbs of Mr. Cuyler. The offer was 
graciously accepted and Mr. Cuyler's rubber 
forthwith sought the Harvard quarters and begged 
to present a similar courtesy to Mr. Wendell. It 
was an agreeable outcome of this exchange of 
amenities that Mr. Wendell won the hundred-yard 
dash that day and that Mr. Cuyler not only won 
the mile run, but broke the record and set up the 
figures of 4 minutes 37I- seconds, which were not 
bettered for seven years. H. S. Brooks, Jr., ap- 
peared in 1882. He was a big man — six feet 
and over in height, and he weighed nearly one 
hundred eighty pounds — but he won both the 
hundred and the two-twenty at the intercollegiate 
that year and the next, and in 1884 he beat the 
Harvard champion, Wendell Baker, by a hair's 
breadth in the hundred. Brooks ran against club 
amateurs also, and he was one of the few men who 
had the honor to beat the phenomenal " Lon " 
Meyers. The race was a scratch two-twenty run 
in 1882 at the New York Athletic Club games. 
Of men such as these Yale had reason enough to 
be proud, but it was not until 1886 that the " Mott 



Track Athletics in the Colleges 279 

Haven Team," as a team, became of sufficient 
importance to make the contest for the cup between 
the traditional rivals really close. Harvard won in 
that year — the hundred-yard dash alone determin- 
ing the result — but in the following year Yale, 
with Coxe, '^'j, the big centre-rush, as captain 
and weight-thrower, and such men as Sherrill, 
the sprinter, Ludington in the hurdles. Shear- 
man in the jumps, and Harmer, the freshman 
miler, at last won. There were nineteen col- 
leges represented at Mott Haven that year. Yale 
scored six firsts and four seconds. It was a well- 
earned victory, and from that time on the track 
team at Yale took the place which it now holds 
beside the nine, the eleven, and the crew. 

Similar development had been going on in the 
smaller New England colleges. At Amherst, 
where a department of physical education had 
been established as early as i860 and the interest 
in outdoor games had always been keen, the new 
sport was taken up with especial enthusiasm. It 
came in just at the time that the interest in row- 
ing — obviously an impracticable sport at water- 
less Amherst — was dying out, and the success of 
the men whom Amherst sent down to Saratoga 
in 1875 set the ball rolling. A regular track 
meet was held in the following autumn, and ever 
since then these class games have been a regular 
feature of the fall term. So has the barrel of 



28o Track Athletics 

cider which was given that year to the victorious 
class, and which every victorious class since then 
has lugged off to an innocuous bacchanal in the 
gymnasium. Williams, Amherst's traditional 
rival, was somewhat slower in getting her track 
athletics well under way, but there was much 
interest in the sport there as well as at the other 
small New England colleges ; and finally, on 
November 23, 1886, delegates from Amherst, 
Williams, Brown, Bowdoin, Dartmouth, Trinity, 
and Tufts met at the Quincy House in Boston, 
and unanimously agreed that a New England 
intercollegiate athletic association should be 
formed. Another meeting was held later in the 
winter, a constitution, in the main the same as 
that of the Intercollegiate Athletic Association, 
was adopted, and the first outdoor meet was held 
the following spring. The general feeling among 
the New England colleges at this time is pretty 
adequately expressed in the following editorial, 
which was printed in the Anihcrst Stitdcnt, De- 
cember 4, 1886 : — 

" The need of taking this step has been felt for 
years, and the reason why it has been put off so 
long we fail to conceive. Competition with Yale, 
Harvard, and the larger colleges, inasmuch as no 
rivalry in this branch of athletics exists between 
ourselves and them, is unavailing. With poor 
chances for success at Mott Haven, the proper 



Track Athletics in the Colleges 281 

spirit and enthusiasm needed for creditable rep- 
resentation could not be awakened in the col- 
lege, and the result has been in the past that the 
intercollegiate contests neither promoted athletic 
industry in the college nor added to its reputation. 
To achieve success in anything, rivalry in some 
form must be present to actuate the participants 
to put forth their best endeavors in its behalf. 
We now belono; to an association in which we 
have an even chance for gaining a position which 
will make Amherst prominent in athletic circles. 
Several of the colleges represented are, without 
doubt, equal to Amherst in athletic ability, and 
it will be sure to follow — that to the one which 
works the hardest will be awarded the honors." 

The colleges and schools of " up-state " New 
York naturally took their athletic inspiration from 
that haven of husky youth, Cornell. As early as 
1873 Cornell had her athletic association, and at 
the first intercollegiates she won a first in the 
mile and a second in the hundred. Cope won 
the mile in 4 minutes 58 seconds, and Potter fin- 
ished second to Nevin of Yale in the hundred in 
10^ seconds. The first field day was held at Cor- 
nell in 1873; and in 1878 winter indoor meets 
were started at Ithaca. The smaller colleges and 
schools in the central part of the state gradually 
fell into line, and in 1885 the New York State In- 
tercollegiate Athletic Association was organized. 



2 82 Track Athletics 

It included Cornell, Union, Syracuse, Hobart, 
Rochester, Hamilton, and Madison, and, like the 
New England Association, made possible a joint 
meet, in which the minor colleges might com- 
pete with a keener sense of sentimental rivalry 
and with a fairer chance of doing themselves jus- 
tice than they could at the big annual meet at 
Mott Haven. 

What was true of New England and New 
York was true of the Middle West and the Pa- 
cific Slope, although in the smaller colleges of the 
Middle West the new sport was slow in striking 
fire. And, for the matter of that, many of these 
little colleges gave scant attention to any sort of 
sport in those days, and what tentative interest 
the undergraduates themselves happened to take 
was likely to be frowned upon by the faculty. 
Most of these small colleges were either coeduca- 
tional or strongly sectarian, or both. In the first 
there was likely to be a feeling that there was 
something incompatible between athletics and a 
decorous gentlemanliness, and in the latter sport 
was looked at askance as flippant and of the flesh 
fleshy. Those who had these institutions in 
charge were generally men who had come from 
good old New England stock, or who had been 
brought up in the stern school of the pioneer, 
and it was naturally very difficult for them to look 
upon mere games as anything but a waste of 



Track Athletics in the Colleges 283 

time. A letter which President Buckham of the 
University of Vermont wrote, in 1875, in reply 
to a newspaper query, " Why was Vermont not 
represented at Saratoga ? " illustrates forcibly the 
point of view of many wise and good men of that 
day toward the growing cult of athleticism — of 
many men of to-day, for that matter, who were 
brought up in the old school and whose opinion 
of outdoor sport, and what comes of it, is more a 
matter of personal prejudice than of knowledge at 
first hand and personal experience. Thus speaks 
President Buckham, and the " earnest of the 
north wind " of old New England is felt in every 
word : — 

" You ask why the University of Vermont was 
not represented at Saratoga. It certainly was 
not for lack of facilities for training, for we have, 
as you suggest, a beautiful lake on one side of us 
and a beautiful river on another side. Neither 
was it for lack of manliness in our men. The 
university was ' represented ' in almost every 
great battle of the Rebellion, from Bull Run to 
Petersburg, having sent to the field a larger num- 
ber in proportion to its total roll than any other 
New England college. But the fact is, that 
neither the character of our community nor the 
traditions of the college are such as to encourage 
sporting habits. A large proportion of its stu- 
dents, large enough to determine the prevail- 



284 Track Athletics 

ing tone of the institution, are sons of farmers — 
plain, industrious fellows, who are working their 
way through college, and who, at the time of the 
regatta, are swinging the scythe in the hay-fields 
or handling the compass and chain on the rail- 
road. Besides, though they are poor, they are 
proud, and would regard it as beneath the dignity 
of a free-born Vermonter to expose their muscle 
in public, like gladiators in the amphitheatre, for 
Mrs. Morrisey and other high-born dames to bet 
on. If you will get up a contest in some honest 
and useful work, and will insure us against the 
intrusion of gamblers and blacklegs, we will en- 
gage to be ' represented.' Meanwhile, we must 
answer your petition as to why we were not repre- 
sented at Saratoga by pleading that we are too 
busy, too poor, and too proud." Sentiments such 
as these would have found an echo, we venture to 
say, in many of the smaller colleges of the Middle 
West during the seventies and eighties ; but the 
new order of things had come to stay, and as the 
larger state universities grew in importance and 
popularity, and such institutions as Michigan and 
Wisconsin began to take on more of the frivoli- 
ties and social complexities of the East, athletics 
— and track athletics along with football and 
baseball — began to play an aggressive role in 
college life. The Middle West was about twenty 
years behind the East in beginning intercolle- 



Track Athletics in the Colleges 285 

giate track contests, but desultory " field days " 
had been held at the larger colleges all through 
the seventies and eighties. At Ann Arbor, long 
before intercollegiate contests were started, open 
games and interclass games were held ; and dur- 
ing the eighties, crack athletes from the Detroit 
Athletic Club used to come out and run the un- 
dergraduates off their feet. The races of those 
days w^ere run on the clay track at the Ann 
Arbor fair grounds. It was not until 1890 
that the University of Michigan had an athletic 
field of her own ; and it was several years later 
before she had a really good cinder path. Michi- 
gan was the first Western college to enter the 
Intercollegiate Association, and in 1885 Bonine, 
the Michigan sprinter, won the hundred at Mott 
Haven. Dean Worcester, later to become a mem- 
ber of the Philippine Commission and Secretary 
of the Interior for the Philippine Government, 
had done fast time in the mile walk on the old 
dirt track at Ann Arbor, and he was sent down 
East with Bonine. He was disqualified by the 
judge of walking, however. Considerable heart- 
burning was aroused at Michigan, and it was not 
until 1895 that Ann Arbor cared to send any 
more men down to Mott Haven. Bonine's suc- 
cess acted, however, as a decided stimulus to 
track athletics, and the Ann Arbor open field 
days became more and more interesting and 



286 Track Athletics 

important. It was at one of these field days that 
Harry Jewett, who won the national amateur 
championship in the hundred in ten flat in 1892, 
came up from Notre Dame as a raw schoolboy 
and first showed what was in him. Ducharme, the 
Detroit Athletic Club hurdler, was another club 
athlete who ran in the Ann Arbor open games. 

In 1893 the Universities of Michigan, Minne- 
sota, and Wisconsin and Northwestern University, 
which had formed a league for football the pre- 
ceding year, held an intercollegiate track meet 
at Chicago. There had been more interest taken 
in track athletics at the University of Illinois and 
in the Iowa, Indiana, and Ohio colleges than at 
either Wisconsin, Minnesota, or Northwestern, 
but because of the size and subsequent athletic 
importance of the universities which sent teams 
to Chicago in 1893, their meet may be said to 
mark the beginning of Middle Western intercol- 
legiate athletics. Michigan won the games. The 
league was dissolved the following winter, but 
the next season, in June, 1894, a sort of invitation 
meet was held at Chicago, which was a much 
greater success than the first one. The Uni- 
versities of Michigan, Wisconsin, Iowa, Minnesota, 
and Illinois, Chicago and Northwestern Univer- 
sities, and Oberlin and Iowa Colleges all took part. 
Illinois won handily, and the Iowa colleges came 
next. The meeting held at Chicago following 



Track Athletics in tJje Colleges 287 

the games resulted in the formation of the West- 
ern Intercollegiate Association, which included 
the colleges that had sent teams to the meet 
and several small institutions. 

This vigorous growth of track athletics was 
not, however, paralleled by healthy development 
of the amateur spirit. The decadence of the 
athletic clubs had already set in, and whatever 
influence they exerted on college athletics was 
bad. Unscrupulous trainers and managers vio- 
lated continually the laws of sportsmanship, and 
all of these harmful influences were exerted on 
a public which had, as yet, no intelligent under- 
standing of the special code of ethics which applies 
to sport. After Michigan's victory at the games 
of 1893 it was learned that the enterprising mana- 
ger of that team had used five " ringers " to make 
sure of success. Such flagrant offences are com- 
paratively easy to deal with, and the man was 
expelled by the Michigan faculty just on the eve 
of getting his diploma; but it was a harder task, 
as it has always been, to prevent the offering to 
promising athletes of sugar-coated inducements, 
or to pound into the heads of untutored, husky, 
easy-going youths a serious appreciation of the 
meaning of the word " amateur." Where the 
status of individuals was in question, there was 
bound to be continual bickering and backbiting 
between the rival colleges that made up the new 



288 Track Athletics 

Western association. At the meet in 1895, ^or 
example, Wisconsin protested at the last moment 
two of the best men on the Michigan team. One 
of these men had been one of the " ringers " on 
the team of 1893. ^^-^t ^^is case had been put 
before the association the preceding winter, it 
was shown that he had acted unwittingly, and he 
had been reinstated ; the other, a former Princeton 
man, had accepted a few dollars for expenses for 
coaching a team in Alabama, an infraction of 
amateur ethics which was also made without any 
intelligent understanding of the nature of the 
offence. Michigan was willing that this latter 
man should be disqualified, but she was dis- 
pleased at the method which Wisconsin had 
taken to bring about such a result, — it was 
asserted that Wisconsin had " doctored " up the 
board of directors of the league against Michi- 
gan, and fixed things for the expulsion of two 
of the Michigan men regardless of all prescribed 
rules of procedure, — and as a result she retired 
from the association, and arranged the following 
spring for dual meets with the University of 
Chicago. We have no desire to enlarge upon 
such unseemly squabbles as this, but it is neces- 
sary to mention at least one to make plain the 
situation in Middle Western athletics at that time, 
— a situation which resulted eventually in the dis- 
solution of the association and the formation of 



Track Athletics in the Colleges 289 

the Intercollegiate Conference Athletic Associa- 
tion. This was organized by facult}^ representa- 
tives of eight of the leading Middle Western 
colleges. Other colleges were excluded in order 
to bring the entry list within reasonable bounds, 
and to make more certain the enforcement of 
eligibility rules, and track athletics were at last 
set upon what seemed to be a permanently healthy 
basis. 

During the years in which Middle Western track 
athletics were enduring these growing pains, a 
number of star performers appeared from time to 
time, who carried their successes to the East and 
even across the water. From Iowa, where there 
had been a great deal of interest and activity in 
track athletics, came, in 1895, John Crum to win 
the hundred at Mott Haven in ten flat. Crum 
was credited on several occasions with better 
than even time. In 1897 Rush of Grinnell was 
credited with gf seconds in the hundred at 
the Iowa intercolle2:iates, and with 2i# in the 
two-twenty. Maybury of Wisconsin, the next 
sensational Western sprinter, won the amateur 
championship two-twenty in 1898, and he was 
credited repeatedly with having beaten even time 
in the West. Maybury, however, not only ran for 
money at Minnesota picnics, when he was too 
young to know better, but he competed, unfortu- 
nately, as a professional after he had made his 



290 Track Athletics 

best record in the West and when he knew just 
what he was doing. Maybury's professionaHsm, 
together with that of Cochem, another Wisconsin 
athlete, was unflinchingly exposed by the authori- 
ties at Madison — a course of procedure which 
was one of the most effective things that was done 
toward checking undergraduate professionalism in 
the Middle West. Kranzlein was another phe- 
nomenon who came up out of the West during 
the latter nineties — to be acquired, as soon as his 
prowess had been demonstrated at Chicago, by 
the University of Pennsylvania. Of late years 
the track athletes of the Middle West have more 
than come into their own. At the conference 
meet in 1903, Blair of Chicago won the hundred 
in 9I seconds, and Hahn of Michigan captured 
the two-twenty in 2 if seconds. In the spring of 
1904 the Michigan team fairly swept the field at 
the Philadelphia relay games — Hahn beating 
Schick of Harvard, the fastest man in the East, 
the relay racers beating the fastest Eastern dis- 
tance men, Sehule of Michigan taking the high 
hurdles, while the shot-put was disposed of by 
Rose of Michigan with his world's record. And 
since the formation of the Conference Association 
the amateur status of Middle Western college 
track athletes has been as carefully preserved as 
that of runners in the older colleges of the East. 
In the Far West college track athletics were 



Track Athletics in the Colleges 291 

not retarded by any Puritanical scruples, but dur- 
ing the early days there was too little chance for 
competition particularly to encourage their de- 
velopment. College athletics began to make 
themselves felt in California during the latter 
eighties, however, and in 1893 the first meet was 
held between Stanford and Berkeley, or, as it is 
more commonly known in the East, the Univer- 
sity of California. Berkeley won by the score of 
91 to 35, and also won the succeeding two years. 
In 1896 the score was a tie, but, generally speak- 
ing, the track athletes of the state university 
have thus far been more successful than those of 
Stanford. It was in 1895 that Berkeley felt her- 
self strong enough to send an attacking party 
on a tour of conquest down East. Games were 
held in various places along the way, the team's 
record was a good one, and at Mott Haven Cali- 
fornia won two seconds and one third. That was 
the year that Crum of Ohio vanquished the East- 
ern sprinters and won both the short distances. 
Had it not been for those two unusual hurdlers, 
Bremer of Harvard and Chase of Dartmouth, 
two firsts instead of two seconds would have 
gone to California. As it was, " Father Bill " 
Curtis, after watching the Berkeley hurdlers run, 
remarked that he would never again question, a 
record that came from the Pacific coast. 

Many excellent track men have been developed 



292 Track Athletics 

at the two big California colleges of late years. 
Among Stanford's men was E. E. Morgan, who 
first came into prominence at Portland, and who 
won scores of races at all sorts of games along the 
coast. Morgan was coast champion at one time, 
a i6f-second man in the high hurdles, and a tol- 
erable performer at the low hurdles, high jump, 
and several other events. Plaw of Berkeley has 
held the collegiate record in the hammer-throw. 
Dole has done very unusual pole-vaulting, and 
were it not for the almost prohibitive distance 
between the coast and the games of the East, 
Berkeley and Stanford would doubtless develop 
teams that could compete on even terms with 
the college teams entered at Mott Haven. The 
annual meet between the two California rivals 
is, at present, the principal purely college track- 
athletic event on the coast, and the coast cham- 
pionships in which club and college athletes both 
compete take the place, in a way, of the Eastern 
intercollegiates. The time is probably not far 
distant, however, when the, state universities will 
unite with Stanford and Berkeley and an associa- 
tion will be formed providing for games in which 
all may be represented. 

There is no space here to narrate in detail the 
growth of that great network of intercollegiate and 
interscholastic associations which now cover the 
country. In addition to the original " intercolle- 



Track AtJjletics in the Colleges 293 

giate" association, there are a dozen or more state 
intercollegiate associations, and a score or more 
dual-meet agreements between the larger colleges. 
There are intercollegiates now in Texas and in 
North Dakota as interesting and important to 
those concerned as are the dual meets of their 
alma maters to the undergraduates of Harvard 
and Yale or Stanford and Berkeley. The second- 
ary schools and high schools are now organized 
on no less comprehensive lines, and there is 
scarcely any part of the country where school- 
boys and collegians cannot find rivals to run with 
and tracks on which to run. The time has long 
gone by when a victory at Mott Haven makes 
a man a college champion except in name. The 
sentimental satisfaction of such victories must 
always be very great to the men who win them, 
but that no longer necessarily implies that the 
performances are of any higher standard than 
would have been required to win at home. 

In looking over the growth of track sports 
in America three phases are apparent. In the 
first place, there was the vague general interest 
which, manifesting itself in running as in other 
sports, marked the beginning of that healthier 
appreciation of the out-of-doors which has been 
so typical of the last generation. Then came 
the starting of the athletic clubs, their amazing 
growth and popularity during the seventies and 



294 Track Athletics 

eighties, their final slipping into profession- 
alism, and their decline. Lastly, the colleges, 
beginning with desultory cross-country runs and 
gradually getting together at Saratoga and Mott 
Haven, and later in the South, the Middle West, 
and in California, so developed and cleansed and 
strengthened the sport that when the time ar- 
rived for the clubs to drop out there were 
undergraduates and schoolboys from Maine to 
California ready to jump into the running. 

The good that has come from track athletics 
can hardly, I believe, be exaggerated. Other 
sports may be more exciting to the spectator, 
and more fun for the man who is in the game ; 
almost any man, I dare say, would rather stroke 
a winning crew or make a winning touchdown 
than win by a few inches a hundred-yard race. 
But no other college sport can be indulged in by 
so many men ; no other sport opens such possi- 
bilities to the averao-e man and the duffer. And 
it is the average man and the duffer who need 
looking after and need encouragement. The 
man who can make an eleven or a crew doesn't 
need any physical training. He is either already 
a " born " athlete or of a temperament that will 
get vigorous play and exercise whether or no. 
The track teams of our colleges and schools have 
not only drawn into athletics and healthy sport 
thousands of men who might otherwise have 



Track Athletics in the Colleges 295 

grown up with flaccid limbs and undeveloped 
lungs, but they have had their social influence as 
well, and to many a man who might otherwise 
have remained a hopeless outsider they have given 
the chance for which every undergraduate right- 
fully yearns — to do something and be somebody 
and in some way serve his college. 



CHAPTER V 

SPRINTING AND AMERICAN SPRINTERS 

Sprinters are born and not made. The making 
helps, and is necessary, but the gift of speed must 
be born into them. Ahnost any youth with a 
presentable pair of legs, a sound heart and lungs, 
sand, and a bit of fighting edge can, by faithful 
training, make himself into a respectable distance 
runner. Men whom one remembers in college 
as apparently hopeless duffers one sees a year or 
two later at Mott Haven — members of the team 
now, perhaps even winning the mile or the two- 
mile run, and at last carrying home the varsity 
initial to be cherished forever after and handed 
down to their children's children. In the sprints 
things are ordered differently. Your sprinter 
may be long or short legged,, it is true ; he may be 
as slim as a match or he may have to hurl his 
thirteen stone like a catapult down the hundred 
yards to the tape ; but to be really a fast man, as 
we reckon speed in these days of better than 
even time, he must have a certain combination 
of strength and spring and nervous energy, a 
dynamic je iie sais qiioi, which can no more be 

296 



sprinting and American Sprinters 297 

acquired by training than one can acquire six 
fingers, or blue eyes, or an extra cubit of stature. 
In the actual running of those arbitrary dis- 
tances, the one-hundred-yard and the two-hundred- 
twenty-yard dashes — which have come to be 
taken as our tests of speed — and particularly in 
the shorter of these distances, the start is, more 
than anything else, the all-important thing. In 
no way can the distance runner or the average 
man who has never run at all have this more 
vividly demonstrated than by starting from a 
mark with a man who can cover one hundred 
yards in even time. Although he will feel that 
he is jumping from the mark the instant the 
pistol snaps, he will find that there is an appreci- 
able instant in which he stands practically rooted 
to the ground, while his rival, as if by some 
baffling magic, shoots out and upward and into 
his stride. In the ordinary race nowadays, so 
common and axiomatic has this trick of fast 
starting become, runners are generally too evenly 
matched to make the extreme quickness of the 
start apparent to the average spectator. This 
quickness in starting is, of course, to a certain 
extent a matter of practice and judgment, but it 
is also the result of a more rapid telegraphing 
from the eye and ear to the brain and back again 
to the muscles, and as such it is much a matter of 
temperament and only very partially a thing to be 



298 Track Athletics 

learned. All-important as the quick start is in such 
a distance as the one-hundred-yard dash, there are 
nevertheless remarkable sprinters who have de- 
pended more on their speed during the last half 
of the distance than during the first. Wefers, for 
instance, was such a man. Many a time this 
large and powerful runner would be on even 
terms with or even behind his rivals until the 
last twenty or thirty yards, when he would slip 
mysteriously away from them as though some 
exterior power had interposed and lifted him on. 
I never saw Crum, the Iowa sprinter, run, but I 
have been told that the same thinor -^as often 
true of him. In the hundred-yard much more 
than in the distance runs, the ground to be cov- 
ered is " felt " as a unit. The experienced runner 
feels those various strides that are to carry him 
to the goal in one definite mental impression, 
very much as one reads a sentence of type with- 
out noticing the separate letters ; he hurls himself 
toward the tape as toward a mark to be hit, very 
much as you swing your fist through the air to 
land on a punching bag, or describe a curve with 
a whip-lash, with a definite knowledge that at a 
certain point, which you can "feel" muscularly, 
the lash will catch and snap. Different runners 
define this sensation differently. One man con- 
ceives of the distance as a single straight line, for 
instance ; another feels it is in two waves, so to 



sprinting and American Sprinters 299 

speak, one sweeping upward from the start, and 
the other sweeping upward to the tape, with a just 
appreciable " hang " somewhere in the middle dis- 
tance. It is when a man loses his grip on this 
definite conception of the whole distance that he 
runs away from himself and begins to " climb 
stairs." While thus refining on these purely sub- 
jective and psychological aspects of the sprint, one 
may not inappropriately mention another of the 
less obvious truths about running of which the 
spectator is not aware. Every man has some 
distance which, conditions being equal, he can 
run better than any other distance. This dis- 
tance is determined by the man's build, tempera- 
ment, and physical make-up, and it may not 
coincide with any of those arbitrary distances 
which we have established by mutual consent as 
the length of our races. Records are, therefore, 
to a certain extent, only approximate proofs of 
the ability of the runners who made them. It 
is only approximately true to say that Smith 
is a faster man than Jones because he can con- 
sistently beat him at one hundred yards, when 
Jones, perhaps, could beat Smith quite as con- 
sistently at anything up to half that distance. 
This is, of course, rather more a theoretical than 
a practical difficulty, and the man who breaks a 
world's record earns all the glory that is coming 
to him. And yet, when the fraction of a watch- 



300 Track Athletics 

tick determines whether or not a man shall be 
athletically famous, it seems only right and 
proper to recall the fact that our rigidly meas- 
ured distances are somewhat arbitrary, and to 
remember, in saluting the champion, the vast 
army of plucky chaps who have eaten their hearts 
out and been forgotten because, by a hand's 
breadth, perhaps, they were fated to be classed 
amonsf those who also ran. 

The crouching start which distinguishes mod- 
ern sprinting form from that of the early days did 
not come into vogue until the early nineties. It is 
now universally used. There had been up to that 
time two variations of the standing start — the 
so-called " theoretical " and the " Sheffield " or pro- 
fessional start. In the " theoretical " start the run- 
ner put either the right or left foot on the mark, 
but always the opposite arm was thrust forward. 
In the " Sheffield " start either the right foot and 
the right arm, or the left foot and the left arm, were 
put forward. It was asserted by the advocates of 
each of these starts that it brought the arms and 
legs into the best position for most easily and 
speedily falling into the motion used in running, 
and there are men to-day, who used these starts 
when they were in college years ago, who cannot 
be convinced that they were not faster than the 
now universal crouching start. That the crouch- 
ing start is faster, however, there is no longer any 



sprinting and American Sprinters 301 

doubt That it is safer, that is to say, that the 
runner is less likely to be penalized for stepping 
over the line when he is crouching solidly on all 
fours, is obvious. In the crouching, or, as it was 
called when it first came into use, the " student's " 
start, both hands are placed on the starting line, 
with the fingers extended generally and the arms 
straight. One foot, generally the left, is set about 
four inches back of the line, and the other is firmly 
set at a comfortable distance behind the first and 
exactly parallel to it. When the rear foot is in 
position, the rear knee should reach to the middle 
of the forward foot. Both feet should be firmly 
set in a solid pocket, scooped or stamped out of 
the cinders. With his fingers on the line, and 
kneeling on the rear knee, the runner may wait 
at his ease until the starter is ready. At the sig- 
nal " Get on your marks ! " he may rise partially, 
still keeping his fingers on the line ; at " Get 
set ! " the rear leg straightens somewhat, and the 
runner leans forward, until the weight of his body 
is trembling, over the line on the pivot of his fin- 
gers. At the pistol shot he dives forward, com- 
ing up gradually to an erect position as he works 
into his stride. Aside from its added security, 
the theory of the crouching start is that the run- 
ner can get away from the line quicker by, so to 
speak, falling or diving away from a solid brace 
than he can by trusting merely to the spring that 



302 Track Athletics 

he gets from his legs minus the help of his body's 
momentum, as is the case in the standing start. 
C. H. Sherrill of Yale, '89, was the first amateur 
of any note to try the crouching start. Sherrill 
was very unsteady on his feet, and he tried the 
crouching position in the hope that he might 
remedy this defect. He never made a great suc- 
cess of it, however, and he returned finally, I be- 
lieve, to the old standing style. But the new start 
had already come into favor, and early in the nine- 
ties it was adopted almost universally. Even 
though no speed were gained by it, the added 
security of the crouching position, with all " four 
feet " on the ground, is enough to justify its adop- 
tion. And in these days, when every false start 
or slip over the line is strictly penalized, no run- 
ner can afford to play with danger. In the early 
days of running in this country, starting was quite 
another matter. False starts were rarely penalized, 
the pistol generally followed immediately on the 
signal " Get set ! " and so shiftless were the starters 
and officials that " beating the pistol " was one of 
the tricks which less sportsmanlike runners con- 
stantly practised. In an article on sprinting, 
written as late as 1891, the late Malcolm Ford re- 
marks that "a really competent pistol was almost 
unheard of six years ago ; " and in examining many 
of the minor records of the first ten or fifteen years 
of American athletics, one must remember that 



sprinting and American Sprinters 303 

the laxity of starters in these early days was only 
too often matched with an equal lack of skill in 
that most delicate and scrupulous performance — 
the timing of a sprint. 

What one might call the modern epoch of hun- 
dred-yard sprinting began in 1890, when slender 
young John Owen, Jr., of the Detroit Athletic 
Club came out of the West and beat the best men 
of the East in better than even time. This great 
race took place on the Onoloston track at Wash- 
ington, D.C., and Owen had among his competi- 
tors Luther Gary of Princeton, the fastest man 
in the colleges at that time, and Westing of 
the New York Athletic Club, the fastest man in 
club athletics. The three were almost neck and 
neck at the finish, Cary only one foot behind — a 
proper fight for a record. This sprint was one of 
those which illustrates vividly how a race may be 
won on the start. Owen beat Cary three feet on 
the leap-away, and he was only one foot ahead at 
the tape. In other words, had they started equally 
well Cary would probably have won. The latter- 
day experiments in psychology have an interest- 
ing bearing on such differences in quickness as 
these. By accurate and exhaustive tests it has 
been shown that a variation of several tenths of a 
second is not uncommon between different indi- 
viduals in the comparative quickness with which 
each acts muscularly after receiving the same 



304 Track Athletics 

mental stimulus. As every tenth of a second 
means one yard in a hundred-yard dash, it is ap- 
parent how important, in the case of two runners 
of equal sprinting speed, is this matter of mere 
temperament. 

In the twenty years that had elapsed since 
" Father Bill " Curtis used to win the hundred, 
just by way of variety from throwing the hammer 
and weights, up to the time that young Owen 
proved that under normal and fair conditions a 
man could run in better than ten seconds flat, 
scores of fast men had been developed, any one of 
a dozen or so of whom at some time or other were 
said to have covered the distance in even time. 
W. C. Wilmer of the Short Hills Athletic Club 
was the first club amateur to be credited with 
this feat at the national championships, when he 
won the hundred in 1878 in 10 seconds; and it 
was not until 1891 that Luther Cary of Princeton, 
winning at Mott Haven, brought the intercol- 
legiate record down to even time. Among the 
club amateurs who had won the sprints during 
these years was Malcolm Ford — only an ade- 
quate sprinter, but at all-round athletics quite the 
best man of his time — and the famous " Lon " 
Meyers, who, although not in the strict sense of the 
word a sprinter, was, perhaps, the most extraordi- 
nary runner of which there is any record. Among 
the college sprinters there had come and gone 



sprinting and American Sprinters 305 

Evart Wendell, Brooks, Sherrill, Lee of Pennsyl- 
vania, Luther Cary, and Wendell Baker. The 
work of Meyers will be more fully treated in the 
chapter on distance running, and it is, perhaps, 
sufificient in this place to give merely a brief sum- 
mary of his performances in the sprints. He is 
credited with a record of 5I seconds for fifty yards, 
made in New York City in 1884, the conclusive 
authenticity of which has sometimes been doubted ; 
with Duffey and others he divides the honor of a 
record of 6|- seconds for sixty yards. Although 
the times made were nothing extraordinary, Meyers 
won the amateur championship in the hundred in 
1880 and 1 88 1, and in the two-twenty in 1879 and 
1880 ; and in a general way it may be said that he 
won repeatedly in the sprints against the best men 
of his day, both in this country and in England. 
Malcolm Ford, who could acquit himself with 
credit in almost every track event, although he 
was not a phenomenal performer at any of them, 
won the amateur championship hundred in 1884, 

1885, and 1886, and the two-twenty in 1885 and 

1886. The times made were only tolerable, but 
they are worthy of notice as part of a really 
remarkable athletic career, which included the 
winning of the all-round championship four times, 
and a successful and practically continuous parti- 
cipation in competitive athletics for over fifteen 
years. Westing of the Manhattan Athletic Club, 



3o6 Track Athletics 

who ran third to Owen in his record-breaking 
race, was, perhaps, the next most notable club 
athlete who did the sprints during the eighties. 
Westing won several amateur championships in 
the dashes, and in 1888 he went to England and 
won out in the hundred there. 

Of the college sprinters of the pre-Owenite 
period Mr. Evart Wendell of Harvard is one of 
the best known to the present generation. Mr. 
Wendell was the intercollegiate champion of his 
day, but his interest in track athletics did not die 
when the time came for him to drop out of the 
running, and he has never ceased to devote a con- 
siderable portion of his leisure to the enthusiastic 
encouragement of college sport. His leading of 
the cheering at Harvard- Yale games of all sorts 
has become a sort of classic. A Mott Haven event 
without this familiar figure among the timers at 
the tape can hardly be imagined, and it is believed 
by many careful observers of undergraduate phe- 
nomena that Mr. Wendell's annual meteoric ap- 
pearance on the winter evening when the Harvard 
track-team candidates get together in answer to 
the first call, his bringing of the glamour of the 
" outside world " into the quiet of the Yard, his 
effervescent reminiscences, and his splendid even- 
ing clothes have done as much to put backbone 
and enthusiasm into bandy-legged freshmen, and 
convince them that not all the ec/at goes to the 



sprinting and American Sprinters 307 

eleven and the crew, as all the exhortations of 
college editors and team captains and the hopes 
of athletic glory. 

The best college sprinter before Evart Wendell 
was H. H. Lee of Pennsylvania, who won the 
hundred three years in succession, in 1877, 1878, 
and 1879, and the two-twenty twice. Directly 
after Wendell came Brooks of Yale, '85, who as 
a freshman won the Mott Haven hundred and 
two-twenty in 1S82 and captured the latter event 
again in 1883. Brooks weighed something like 
one hundred eighty pounds, yet he managed to do 
50^ seconds in a quarter, and defeated " Lon " 
Meyers from scratch at the New York Athletic 
Club games in 1882 and in 1884 in the two- 
twenty. Wendell Baker of Harvard, who also ran 
at this time, was an unusually pretty runner. He 
lacked but one inch of six feet, and in running 
trim he weighed a trifle less than one hundred 
forty pounds. Although Baker never won the 
hundred at Mott Haven, he was good, when in 
his best form, for ten seconds flat, and he cap- 
tured the two-twenty three years in succession — 
in 1884, when he brought the intercollegiate 
record down to 2 2|- seconds, and in 1885 and 
1886. The quarter in 1885 went also to Baker, 
and in that same year F. M. Bonine of the Uni- 
versity of Michigan won the hundred. It was 
the first time an athlete from a Western college 



3o8 Track Athletics 

had won a championship at Mott Haven. Sher- 
rill of Yale, '89, was the next collegiate sprinter 
of unusual ability to appear, and one of the best 
runners that ever was developed at Yale. He 
won the hundred four years in succession, the 
two-twenty three years in succession, and while a 
sophomore he ran against all comers at the 
national amateur meet and won. He was good 
for ten flat, and it used to be Trainer Mike 
Murphy's opinion that if he had been pushed 
hard enough in 1889, when he was in perhaps 
his best form, he would have beaten even time. 
Luther Cary of Princeton appropriately closes 
this pre-Owenite period, although he ran and won 
at Mott Haven the year after the new record was 
made. Cary was a short man, and his style was a 
bit labored, but there is little doubt that he was 
the fastest college sprinter up to his time. In 
1 89 1 he won in the same day both dashes, putting 
the hundred-yard intercollegiate record at ten flat 
for the first time, and breaking Sherrill's two- 
twenty record by two-fifths of a second. Gary's 
record in the longer dash held until 1896, when 
Wefers appeared and all established things went 
to smash. It was Cary, as we have already ob- 
served, who ran second to Owen when he broke 
the ten-second record, and in that race, after a 
slow start, he had the honor of gaining on the 
champion, and finishing at least two feet nearer 
to him than he had started. 



sprinting and American Sprinters 309 

The breaking of the record for the hundred 
yards was not the only thing which marked the 
early nineties as the beginning of a new period in 
track athletics. It was in the early nineties, as 
we have said, that the standing start — one of 
the vague reminders of the old days of profession- 
alism — gave way entirely to the more rakish and 
graceful crouching start. The semi-circus costumes 
of tights and trunks had already been displaced 
by the more sportsmanlike-looking running clothes 
of the present day, and a man who could not 
do at least lol- when he had to was no longer to 
be looked upon as a sprinter of the first class. In 
1896, six years after Owen had broken the ten- 
second record, Bernard J. Wefers of Georgetown 
repeated the feat of the young Westerner, and the 
hundred was again done in one-fifth of a second 
better than even time. It seemed as though man's 
limit had, perhaps, been reached, and for six more 
years the breathless quest went on in vain, and 
then the impossible was again achieved, and 
Arthur Duffey of Georgetown University snapped 
the tape in 9|- seconds. In terms of distance 
this tiny fraction of time meant beating a nine 
and four-fifths man by about six feet of daylight. 

The average standard of speed in the sprints 
so markedly improved during the nineties that it 
is quite impossible in this place to describe in 
any detail the performances of any but the record- 



3IO Track Athletics 

breaking men. At the intercollegiates, before 
the little whirlwind appeared from Georgetown 
to take the hundred four years in succession, Gary, 
Ramsdell of Pennsylvania, Grum of Iowa, Wefers, 
and Tewkesbury and Kranzlen of Pennsylvania 
had all done lo seconds flat. Of these, in addi- 
tion to Wefers, Grum at least was supposed by 
his friends to have beaten even time on other 
tracks. In the two-twenty, since Gary had set the 
record at 2i4 in 1S91, W. Svvayne, Jr., of Yale, 
Ramsdell, Grum, Wefers, Tewkesbury, Lightner 
of Harvard, had all done 22 seconds or better, 
and Wefers had lowered the record for the longer 
dash to 21 J seconds. Glose on the heels of these 
first-string men, and themselves first-string men 
in their own colleges, were and are many fast 
runners — runners like Richards of Yale, Jar- 
vis of Princeton, Maybury of Wisconsin, and any 
number of others whose work cannot even be 
glanced at here, who ran during the nineties and 
are running every spring now on scores of cinder 
paths in times that thirty years ago would have 
been thought phenomenal. 

In the sprinting class, and yet in a class by them- 
selves, are those runners who have the peculiar 
ability of attaining extraordinary speed for all the 
short distances up to fifty or seventy-five yards, 
but who have never run with equal success in the 
regulation longer sprinting distances. A number 



sprinting and American Sprinters 3 1 1 

of men divide the records for these, so to speak, 
" trick " distances, but the most typical and con- 
sistent performer was, perhaps, Edward B. Bloss 
of Harvard, '94. Bloss was essentially a short- 
distance sprinter. In his day he held the records 
for all the short distances up to seventy-five yards, 
and they were as follows : fifteen yards in 2^ sec- 
onds ; twenty yards in 2 J seconds ; thirty yards 
in 3|- seconds ; forty yards in 4|- seconds ; fifty 
yards in 5|- seconds ; and seventy-five yards in 7-| 
seconds. 

These were absolutely authentic records, a thing 
which cannot be said positively of the perform- 
ances of some of the quick starters who have sub- 
sequently claimed to have shaved one-fifth of a 
second of Bloss's time. When Bloss first began 
to run he used the standing start, but he later 
adopted the surer and faster crouching one, and 
his style had the individuality of planting the 
rear foot unusually far back. From this brace he 
would leap away as though shot out of a gun, 
and the way he would swarm away from the 
line for thirty or forty yards seemed to the men 
beside him as almost magical. Bloss, as might 
be expected, was a small, stocky runner with 
plenty of compact muscle. Duffey and Wefers 
both share with other less notable sprinters 
records in the short distances, and somewhat over 
a dozen sprinters are credited with 4|- seconds for 



312 Track Athletics 

forty yards. Even " Lon " Meyers, who was not 
essentially a runner of the " trick " distances, is 
credited, not without some slight doubt of authen- 
ticity, with a record of 5J seconds for fifty yards. 
It is very rare that the men who are particularly 
good at these short distances succeed in running 
the whole hundred yards. A. H. Green of Har- 
vard, '92, who, for example, was the fastest man at 
the very short distances at Cambridge in his day, 
never did as well on cinders as he did on boards, 
and the best he could do for the whole hundred 
yards was io| seconds. In fact, a peculiar sort 
of combination of nervous energy and running 
" action " seems to be required for these distances, 
and clever performances at them are due more to 
the spring that a jumper uses than to the steady 
stride of the sprinter. 

Of the two preeminent sprinters of the present 
generation the performances of Wefers have been 
somewhat lost sight of, followed so soon and 
eclipsed as they were by the record-breaking 
running of Arthur Duffey. And yet not even 
Duffey was as fast as Wefers in the longer sprint 
and for all-round consistent work at the short dis- 
tances, and leaving out Duffey's record-breaking 
hundred, it is not altogether easy to give com- 
plete preeminence to the younger son of George- 
town. Wefers was a man of large physique, as 
strong above the waist as below it, and in athletic 



sprinting and American Sprinters 313 

costume he might quite as reasonably have been 
taken for a hammer-thrower as a sprinter. Had 
he trained for the middle distances instead of the 
dashes, there seems little reason to believe that 
he might not have distinguished himself at the 
quarter and half mile. At the former distance he 
performed more than creditably on many occa- 
sions, and his whole style of running was based 
not so much on the explosive swirl of the quick 
starter as on solid strength and stability and 
length of stride. He was not a phenomenally 
fast starter, and it was in the last rather than in 
the first thirty yards that he generally won his 
races. Wefers broke the intercollegiate record 
in the hundred yards and smashed all records, 
amateur and professional, in the two-twenty in 
1896, when, on the same day, he ran the hundred 
in 9^ seconds and the longer sprint in 2 1^ seconds. 
This performance definitely stamped him as the 
preeminent sprinter of his day, in spite of the fact 
that the Westerners, Crum, Maybury, and Rush, 
all had been credited with a hundred in less than 
even time. Wefers's time in the hundred, taken 
as it was by the intercollegiate timers, was abso- 
lutely authentic, and his extraordinary race in the 
longer sprint was a triumphant corroboration of 
his ability, if anything of the sort were needed. 
Wefers won his record-breaking hundred that 
day by an easy seven feet from H. C. Patterson 



314 Track Athletics 

of Williams, while J. S. Brown of Cornell was 
third by half a yard. In the two-twenty Wefers 
finished a whole second ahead of Patterson, and 
his speed in the last forty yards, when he simply 
lost the other three runners, was probably the 
fastest running ever done in this country up to 
that time. Patterson finished in 2 2|- seconds, 
Denholm of Harvard was two feet behind Patter- 
son, and Brown of Cornell was only a few inches 
behind Denholm. 

The title which Wefers won at Mott Haven in 
the spring of 1896 he defended with consistent 
and invincible running under all sorts of condi- 
tions and on all sorts of tracks. He won the 
intercollegiate championship in the hundred again 
in 1897, and at the national amateur champion- 
ships, where he had already won both the hundred 
and two-twenty in 1895 and in 1896, he repeated 
the feat in 1897. At this national championship 
meet in 1897 Wefers did g^ seconds again in the 
hundred and came within one-fifth of a second of 
equalling his world's record in the two-twenty. 
In addition to these well-known performances, 
Wefers did record time and better at all sorts of 
distances from forty yards up to three hundred, the 
latter of which distances he ran at the Traver's 
Island track on September 26, 1896, in 3o|- 
seconds. Wendell Baker's famous straight-away 
quarter in 47I- seconds was probably as near as 



sprinting and American Sprinters 315 

any one had come to such time before. Just what 
it means to do three hundred yards in 2P\ seconds 
may be vividly understood when it is considered 
that such a performance is the equivalent of doing 
three consecutive hundred-yard dashes, each in 
io|^ seconds. When such a runner could hurl 
himself time and again down the hundred-yard 
stretch and not break the tape in less than the 
9|- seconds, set by young Owen six years before, 
it began to look as though man's limit had been 
definitely reached and that the best the human 
machine could ever do was one-fifth of a second 
better than even time. Six more years went by 
and then Duffey came. 

Duffey had won the hundred at Mott Haven in 

1901 on a sodden track and in a pouring rain. 
Fast time w^as impossible, of course, but in the 
same year, on another track, he had been credited 
with 9^ seconds, and that he was a natural sprinter 
had for a long time been known. When, there- 
fore, he came down to the intercollegiates in 

1902 and ran one of his trial heats in 9^, every- 
body knew that something was going to happen 
in the final. The day was a perfect one, warm 
and fair, with only the gentlest of breezes stir- 
ring; the track hard and fast. Crouching beside 
Duffey in the final heat were Schick of Harvard, 
Westing of Pennsylvania, Moulton of Yale, and 
Cadogan of California. At the pistol, Schick 



3i6 Track Athletics 

got away first. At the middle distance the Har- 
vard sprinter was still ahead, and Duffey said 
afterward that he thought this was what made 
him break the record. He and Schick had run as 
boys together, and Duffey had always been able 
to beat him. Yet, when he could see out of the 
corner of his eye that his rival was still a shade 
in the lead at the fifty yards, Duffey began to get 
frightened. It struck him that Schick was going 
to beat him at last. Now Duffey, like many 
other sprinters, ran the hundred in two bursts, so 
to speak, or beats. Many veteran sprinters actu- 
ally perfect this method of running a hundred so 
that they breathe only twice during the distance. 
They take one long breath when the command 
is given to " set," hold it until just before the 
final effort is to be made, and then take another 
full breath for the last burst of speed. However 
this may have been in Duffey's case, the George- 
town sprinter knew that the race was half over, 
that Schick was still ahead of him, and if his 
second " bui'st " didn't carry him beyond his rival 
the race was lost. He took the challenge, threw 
every ounce he had left into the running, and he 
broke the tape in 9|- seconds and established a 
new world's record. 

Every man of the five who ran with Duffey 
that day ran very fast. All were well up at 
the finish, and Schick, the 1904 intercollegiate 



sprinting and American Sprinters 317 

champion, probably did better than 10 seconds 
flat. A fifth of a second at that point in a race 
means six feet, so that a runner within twelve 
feet of the winner must have beaten even time. 
Moulton of Yale was third ; Westing of Penn- 
sylvania, fourth ; and Cadogan of California, last. 
The unquestioned accuracy of the time of Duffey's 
sprint, and of the length of the course, established 
Duffey's record beyond the slightest question of 
a doubt. Four of the most experienced timers 
in the country held the watches that day — Mr. 
Evart Jansen Wendell, Mr. Robert Stoll, Mr. 
Mortimer Bishop, and Mr. C. C. Hughes. The 
watches of the first three gentlemen all regis- 
tered 9|- seconds ; Mr. Hughes's watch registered 
9|- seconds, the strongest possible corroboration 
of the testing of the other watches, and at least 
a vague encouragement of the belief that even 
Duffey's time may yet be beaten. The course 
was measured directly after the race, and found 
to be one inch longer than the required dis- 
tance. 

With the record of world's champion thus 
attained, Duffey proceeded to establish his claim 
to the title by consistent performances on all 
sorts of tracks, and under all sorts of conditions, 
both here and abroad. He won the hundred at 
Mott Haven again in 1903 in 9^ seconds, mak- 
ing his third consecutive intercollegiate victory. 



3i8 Track Athletics 

He had already won a national amateur cham- 
pionship as far back as 1899, and he had won the 
hundred at the English championships in 1900 
and 1 90 1. Duffey went abroad again with his 
new honor fresh upon him, and although the 
climate disagreed with him, and he went away 
off in form, he defeated all comers and at the 
championship meeting won again. For the fourth 
time, in 1903, Duffey again invaded England, and 
again he won at the championships and van- 
quished all comers with consistent ease in various 
parts of the United Kingdom. 

Duffey was the typical "born" sprinter. Even 
as a boy he found it easy to outrun the boys he 
played with, and although he tried the pole-vault 
when he first became interested in athletics, he 
soon gave that up for the thing he was made 
for. In 1899 he met and defeated Quinlan of 
Harvard, and the same season Quinlan went to 
England with the Harvard-Yale team and won. 
When Duffey won that year at the national 
championships, he began to suspect what he had 
in him. In shape and running form Duffey was 
again a typical sprinter. He was built like a 
watch. He had no waste tissue nor awkward 
joints. Rather short, but muscular and com- 
pact, and with a limitless amount of explosive 
energy, he combined many of the qualities of a 
high-power electric motor and a rubber ball. 



sprinting and American Sprinters 319 

He was a rubber ball at the " trick " distances 
up to fifty yards, and the high-power machine 
for the last fifty yards of the hundred. The low, 
lightning-like scrambling start, such as men like 
Bloss were masters of, was Duffey's too, and he 
was able to add to it for the rest of the distance 
the steady express-locomotive action of the per- 
fect sprinter. Duffey covered the distance, as we 
have already said, in two bursts, so that he not 
only finished as strong as he started, but there 
was in the last twenty or thirty yards an explo- 
sive rush, corresponding somewhat to the rush 
away from the mark at the start, which was pecul- 
iarly effective in beating out his opponents. 

The limit of speed which the unaided human 
body, propelled by its own energy, can attain, 
has, obviously, very nearly, if not completely, 
been realized. The human body is at best but 
an awkward machine for producing speed. Any 
self-respecting hound or rabbit could make all 
our Dufleys and Weferses look like thirty cents. 
Every sprinter knows the difficulty of avoiding 
" climbing stairs " when stretching his stride to 
the utmost ; those who overreach themselves and 
fall merely because the brain's ambitious com- 
mand cannot be obeyed by the muscles, the 
tendons that snap now and then at the supreme 
moment, show how weak are the runner's means 
compared with his desire. Some one may yet 



320 Track Athletics 

run one hundred yards in three-fifths of a second 
better than even time. One stop-watch said that 
Duffey did. We may know, at any rate, that the 
limit is only a hair's breadth away, and for what 
one calls practical purposes it has already been 
attained. 



,-) 



CHAPTER VI 

DISTANCE RUNS AND DISTANCE RUNNERS 

Temperamentally, the nervous and high-strung 
American type is more adapted to the sprints than 
to the distance runs. That is to say, theoretically 
speaking, the typical American athlete ought, with 
a given amount of training, to make a better com- 
parative showing in the hundred than in the mile, 
and by the same token his English cousin ought, 
with an equal amount of preparation, to make a 
better comparative record in the mile than in the 
hundred. That the present world's record for the 
mile was made in England and the world s record 
for the hundred was made in America is a rather 
more fortuitous proof of this fact than the show- 
ing which our college athletes have made against 
the undergraduates of Oxford and Cambridge. 
For the men who make world's records are indi- 
vidual prodigies rather than types, and far less 
representative of the class from which they spring 
than are the average amateur athletes of the col- 
lege teams, who have gone in for running for 
the fun of the thing, and are only slightly more 
proficient at their various events than perhaps 

V 321 



32 2 Track Athletics 

scores of their fellow-collegians. And that the 
undergraduates of Oxford and Cambridge are 
better at the long distances than those of Har- 
vard and Yale has been only too vividly demon- 
strated on the several international occasions 
when these young gentlemen have had the 
pleasure of meeting. 

The most plausible explanation of the average 
superiority of Englishmen at the long distances 
is the big fact that outdoor sport has been for 
generations, and to a considerable body of the 
people, a real and vital thing in a sense that we 
do not as yet understand it here. Sport has long 
been a habit there ; with us it has not yet quite 
ceased to be a fad. Distance running requires 
endurance rather than speed, and endurance is 
not acquired in a month or in a year. If it 
makes a difference in the way a race-horse 
answers the question which the jockey puts to 
him in the stretch, whether or not his grandsire 
won the Suburban, so should it make a differ- 
ence in the last fifty yards of a mile run whether 
or not a man's father rowed in his college eight 
and a man's grandfather followed the hounds at 
three-score-and-ten. And if the battles of the 
Iron Duke were won on the football fields of the 
English schools, so, one fancies, is the mile or 
two-mile run of to-day's international meet won 
in the paper-chases of Rugby and Eton. The 



Distance Runs and Distance Runners 323 

English climate, as well as the English habit of 
exercise, has also had its effect in cultivating 
endurance. The very thing which takes the life 
and snap out of an American sprinter who spends 
more than a week on English soil, seems to act 
as a sort of stay and seasoner to the more leisurely 
English athlete. There is, undoubtedly, some- 
thing almost magnetic in our American air, at 
least in the sort of atmosphere that is found in 
the northeastern Atlantic states where the inter- 
national meets have been held. It acts as a 
nervous stimulant, and it has been observed on 
several occasions that English athletes who had 
apparently been knocked out by the change of 
climate, and who went into a contest feeling any- 
thing but fit, yet managed to run quite as fast as 
they had ever run at home. What the English 
climate lacks in this stimulating effect it seems to 
make up in its general soothing and nourishing 
influence, and if the athlete who has been bred 
in it is deficient in snap and nervous spring he is 
strong in endurance and vitality. 

The fastest authentic time yet recorded for the 
mile run was the record of 4 minutes i2-|- seconds 
made by the Englishman, W. G. George, in 1886. 
George had been running for several years as an 
amateur before becoming a professional in a match 
with another English distance runner, Cummings, 
and he had an amateur record of 4 minutes i8|- 



324 Track Athletics 

seconds, made at the English championships, in 
1884, which was at that time a new record for 
the world. The fastest amateur mile that has yet 
been run was that done in 4 minutes 15I- seconds, 
by T. P. Conneff, at the New York Athletic Club 
track at Traver's Island, on August 28, 1895. 
So far as the record books go, therefore, America 
can claim the fastest amateur mile; and yet Con- 
neff was born in Ireland, and he had run on the 
other side before coming here. Our next fastest 
mile, 4 minutes 21^ seconds, was made by George 
Orton, and he came from Canada. In England, 
on the other hand, a number of men have done 
4 minutes 20 seconds in the mile, and at the Eng- 
lish championships in 1902, for instance, J. Binks 
won in 4 minutes 16^ seconds, the second man was 
only one yard behind him, and the third and fourth 
men both finished within 4 minutes 20 seconds. 

Of the American runners who have attained 
distinction in the long or middle distances, and 
proved an exception to our ruling mediocrity, 
Lawrence E. Meyers was first, both in point of 
time and in merit. Meyers was essentially a 
runner of the middle distances, and certainly one 
of the fastest all-round runners that the world has 
ever seen. He was an athlete of indomitable 
gameness, and there was none of the shorter 
distances at which he was not always willing 
and ready to compete. He made records in the 



Distance Runs and Distance Runners 325 

short " trick " distances, and he several times won 
amateur championships in the hundred and two- 
twenty ; but it was at the longer distances up to 
one thousand yards that he was most extraor- 
dinary, and it was in these that, starting from 
scratch, he ran through fields of the best men 
that could be put up against him on dozens of 
tracks here and abroad. In personal appearance 
Meyers was thin almost to emaciation ; indeed, 
when he joined the Manhattan Athletic Club, 
under whose colors he did the greater part of 
his running, he was supposed to be an invalid. 
When in running condition he weighed only one 
hundred twelve pounds. He was all legs, slen- 
der as these underpinnings were, and had prac- 
tically no body at all above the waist. When he 
was on the track, however, this lack of roundness 
and symmetry was forgotten in the startling ease 
and smoothness of his long, light greyhound 
stride. When he ran in England in 1885 the 
Earl of Crawford is said to have exclaimed, at the 
Wigan Cricket Club games, " There is the only 
real runner I have ever seen ! " 

Meyers first appeared in 1878 at the games of 
the New York Athletic Club on election day. 
He received eighteen yards' handicap in the quar- 
ter mile and won in 55 seconds. The next spring 
at the games of the Staten Island Athletic Club 
he won the same distance from scratch in 54 



32 6 Track Athletics 

seconds. By the year 1880 Meyers had rounded 
into something like what was to be his real form, 
and he won four American and four Canadian 
championships. The events in which the Ameri- 
can championships were won were the one-hun- 
dred and two-hundred-twenty yard dashes, the 
quarter and the half mile runs. The times for 
these four events were respectively: lof seconds, 
23!^ seconds, 52 seconds, and 2 minutes 4|- seconds 
— none remarkable in itself, but all respectable — 
and when it is considered that these times were 
made in open competition in one afternoon, the 
magnitude of the feat is apparent. During the 
early eighties Meyers met and vanc|uished almost 
every middle-distance runner of his day. In 
addition to his championship winnings in the 
sprints, which we have touched upon already, 
Meyers won the American amateur championship 
in the quarter-mile run in 1879, 1880, 1881, 1882, 
1883, and 1884; the half-mile championship he 
won in 1879, 1880, and 1884. His quarter mile 
in 49|- seconds, in 1881, was the best of these per- 
formances, but he made records of 35 flat for three 
hundred thirty yards; i minute 31 seconds for 
seven hundred yards ; i minute 44I- seconds for 
eight hundred yards; and 2 minutes 13 seconds 
for one thousand yards. After beating every- 
thing in sight in this country, Meyers, went to 
England in 1885 and duplicated there his sue- 



Distance Runs and Distance Runners 327 

cesses here. The story of his races during that 
tour is merdy a description of the various 
ways in which an invincible scratch man mows 
down the fields that are strung out against 
him. Here we find him giving the English 
champion, Cowie, eight yards' start in the quarter 
and beating him in 484 seconds; there he runs a 
half-mile and a quarter-mile race over a grass 
course in the same afternoon, capturing the latter 
in 49|- seconds. Local stars wager that the 
stranger cannot give them such-and-such a handi- 
cap, as for example, this Widner runner who brags 
that Meyers can't beat him with thirty-five yards' 
start in the half mile. Meyers shrugs his shoulders, 
first ploughs through two rugged fields from 
scratch, and wins a half and a quarter, then tells 
the Widner challenger to take his distance. 
There are twenty other entries. Meyers passes 
them all, one by one, including the thirty-five- 
yard man, has a clear field at the seven-hundred- 
forty-yard mark, and wins in a romp, eight yards to 
the good, in i minute 57f seconds, over a rough 
grass course. At Smithport we find the Mayor pre- 
senting him the prize with a congratulatory speech ; 
at Manchester he wins a quarter in 49^ seconds 
with a broken shoe; at the Blackley Cricket Club's 
games, in the same city, he wins a half, on a grass 
track, in i minute 56;^ seconds, jumps into a cab, 
and is driven six miles to another track, where he 



328 Track Athletics 

runs a quarter in 49I- seconds. This quarter was 
one of the races in which Meyers was beaten, third 
being the best he could get, and it illustrates the 
gaminess of the man that he would never refuse 
a challenge so long as he could stand up and 
have at least a chance of winning. He was not 
one of those athletes who treat their legs and lungs 
as grand-opera singers do their voices. Meyers's 
last appearance in England was on August 19, 
1885, at Rockdale. Here he won the half mile 
in I minute 57 seconds, and ran a dead heat of 
46f seconds in the quarter. Mason, the runner 
with whom the dead heat was run, started from 
the twenty-four-yard mark. He was too much 
fatigued to run another heat, although Meyers 
was ready to accommodate him, and the race 
went to the American by default. Meyers's Eng- 
lish tour marks the top and the practical finish of 
his running career. On his return to this country 
a delegation went down the harbor to meet and 
greet him, and a lavish collation was served at 
the Astor House in his honor. He presently an- 
nounced his retirement from athletics, and on the 
evening of October 17, 1885, a big testimonial 
benefit and athletic meet was given for him at 
the Madison Square Garden. Meyers was heaped 
with glory and flowers, and some $4000 was pre- 
sented to him as the profits of the entertainment. 
The famous runner then gradually dropped out 



Distance Runs and Distance Runners 329 

of athletics, finally became a race-track book- 
maker, was as reckless of even his mere health as, 
in his running days, he had been of his own com- 
fort and prestige, and it was not long before he 
went completely to pieces. 

This was the heyday time of our club athletics. 
With a man like Meyers running it was no wonder 
that the interest in the new sport grew amazingly 
and that English and Irish and Canadian athletes 
were attracted to try their fortunes here. Among 
these transplanted runners was the Englishman, 
E. C. Carter, picturesquely known during the 
later eighties to the club athletic public as 
" Eddie " Carter, the " Little Boy in Pink." This 
sobriquet was tacked upon him in England be- 
cause of the somewhat flowery costume in which 
it pleased him to appear on the track. He had 
acquired a great reputation over there and had 
finished second to W. G. George, when he 
sailed for America in 1885. It was the psycho- 
logical moment for a first-class distance runner 
to appear in this country, and Carter was taken 
up by the club athletes and made much of. He 
joined the New York Athletic Club, became cap- 
tain of the Suburban Harriers, and interested him- 
self much in cross-country running; and at the 
amateur championships he soon showed what he 
was made of. In 1886 and 1887 he won the 
championships in both the mile and the five-mile 



330 Track Athletics 

runs, smashing conclusively the record in the 
longer event ; he won the senior individual cross- 
country championship in 1892, and the ten-mile 
championship in 1891, 1893, and 1894. It was at 
these long events that the " Little Boy in Pink " 
was best. Many of the records which he made 
during the latter eighties still hold for various 
distances, from five miles, which he did in 25 
minutes 23I- seconds, to nine and one-half miles, 
which he ran in 50 minutes 25I- seconds. In 
speaking of cross-country running we shall have 
more to say of Carter. 

" Tommy " Conneff, the greatest of our adopted 
runners, came from Ireland soon after Carter. 
He already had a reputation as a fast man at the 
long distances in his native land, and he soon 
established his position as the fastest man at all 
but the longest distances on this side of the water. 
Conneff was an excellent example of the stocky, 
solidly built long-distance runner. Men of his 
type rarely seem to excel at the middle distances, 
where a certain amount of speed and great length 
of stride are necessary ; but in the longer dis- 
tances, where endurance is the most potent factor, 
they often perform better than tall, slender men of 
great length of limb. Thus, while slender, long- 
legged Meyers might run at one hundred twelve 
pounds, Conneff was a short, chunky chap, scarcely 
more than five feet in height, and built like a 



Distance Runs and Distance Runners 331 

gymnasium man. Conneff won the national cham- 
pionship in the five-mile run in 1888, 1889, 1890, 
and 1 89 1, and in 1890 he won also the champion- 
ship in the mile and ten-mile runs. 

After nearly ten years of track racing, Conneff 
still remained, in 1895, ^^"^^ best miler on this side 
of the water, and it was in the trial race to choose 
the men who were to compete against the Oxford- 
Cambridge team in the autumn of that year that 
Conneff made his record. George Orton, who 
was also in this trial race, finished about one hun- 
dred yards behind the champion, and " Eddie " 
Carter joined Conneff in the last lap and set 
the pace in the final three hundred yards. The 
half was run in 2 minutes 6|- seconds, the three- 
quarters in 3 minutes io|- seconds, and the mile in 
4 minutes 15I- seconds. This supplanted the pre- 
vious world's record of F. S. Bacon of the Read- 
ing and Ashton Harriers, made at the Stamford 
Bridge Grounds, in England, in July of the same 
year. Conneff had never been in as good form 
as he was that autumn, and it was the opinion of 
" Father Bill " Curtis, and other capable judges, 
that he could at any time have beaten his own 
record. The chance of a lifetime came at the 
international games, but Conneff contented him- 
self with running the mile in slightly over 4 min- 
utes 18 seconds, saving himself for the three-mile 
run which was to come later on. It was anything 



33^ Track Athletics 

but good judgment, his friends thought, for the 
winning of the three-mile race could add practically 
nothing at all to his fame and he was fit at the 
time, in the opinion of such experts as Mr. Curtis, 
certainly to lower his own amateur record, and 
possibly to break George's world's record. The 
chance was lost, and Conneff never again attained 
such record-breaking form. 

Although our best long-distance running has 
been done by adopted athletes, and under club col- 
ors, the best men at the middle distances have been 
college bred. Thus it was Maxwell W. Long of 
Columbia who made the world's record of 47 
seconds flat for the quarter mile, and only three- 
fourths of a second less fast was the record of 
Wendell Baker of Harvard. It was C. N. Kil- 
patrick of Union who made the world's record of 
I minute 53I- seconds for the half mile, and close to 
Kilpatrick was the i minute 54I- seconds of Evan 
Hollister of Harvard. And beside and behind 
such records as these is a solid background of first- 
class running — the running of those who were 
essentially sportsmen before they were athletes, 
and who went into the game because they thought 
it was fun. 

The quarter mile, although generally spoken of 
as a " run," is really more properly a sprint. It is 
run at almost top speed until the last fifty yards, 
when the runner squeezes his corks and " finishes 





o 



Distance Runs and Distance Runners 333 

on what he's got left." Of the quarter-milers who 
followed Meyers and who were anywhere near to 
his class, Wendell Baker was the first, and, for 
many years, the most notable. At the intercolle- 
giates Baker won the quarter only once, in 1885, 
and then in the slow time of 54I- seconds — a 
commonplace enough record on paper compared 
with three consecutive victories of his college 
mate, W. H. Goodwin, who immediately preceded 
him, and the three straight firsts of that other 
Harvard quarter-miler, S. T. Wells, who immedi- 
ately followed him. But Baker's speed had been 
convincingly proved on other tracks and in the 
shorter distances at Mott Haven, and he decided 
to try, on July i, 1886, at the Beacon Park track 
in Boston, to break the world's amateur record. 
Meyers held it at that time with his quarter in 48I- 
seconds. The course at Beacon Park was nearly 
straight-away and of dirt, which, when in perfect 
condition, many runners have preferred to cinders. 
The upper layer was scraped away and the surface 
made smooth and hard. Baker sprinted the first 
two hundred twenty yards alone, and then a 
pace-maker lifted him over the rest of the dis- 
tance. At three hundred fifty yards the time was 
2f'j seconds, at four hundred yards 43 seconds, and 
at the finish 47J seconds. While warming up 
for the trial Baker split his running shoe slightly, 
and in the middle of the quarter the split spread 



334 Track Athletics 

so that he had to kick the shoe off and run the 
last one hundred yards with one shoe off and one 
shoe on. Of the three watches at the finish one 
showed 47|- seconds, one 47I- seconds, and one 
47|- seconds, so that the authenticity of the record 
of 47f seconds is more than established. Wendell 
Baker's record held for over ten years, until broken 
by Maxwell Long of Columbia, but between the 
two there were many good quarter-milers. Dohm 
of Princeton, Shattuck of Amherst, who won the 
intercollegiate quarter in 1891 in 49 J seconds, 
Downs, Wright, Sayer, Merrill, Vincent of 
Harvard, and Jarvis of Princeton, were all iirst- 
class men. Burke of Boston University, and 
later of Harvard, immediately preceded Long as 
national champion in the quarter mile, and in 
1897, indeed, before Long attained his best form, 
Burke had the pleasure of beating him. Burke 
won the quarter at the national championships in 
that year in 49 flat, the year before he had won it 
in 48|- seconds, and the year before that in 49|- 
seconds, a record quite enough in itself to estab- 
lish his reputation as one of our best and most 
consistent quarter-milers. In addition to his 
quarter-mile running he won the half mile once 
at both Mott Haven and the national champion- 
ships, and he added to his list of victories at 
the Olympic games in Athens, and at all sorts of 
athletic meets throughout the East, and particu- 



Distance Runs and Distance Runners 335 

lady in and about Boston. As far as form went 
Burke was one of the prettiest runners of his day. 
He was tall, slender, and lithely put together, and 
in action he " got his back into it " with that 
steel-spring rhythm which adds so much to the 
music of a runner's stride. 

Long did not try for the world's record in the 
quarter until after he had won at Mott Haven 
and at the national championships, in both this 
country and England, and proved by the stern 
logic of competition that he could beat all comers. 
The trial was run at the Guttenberg race track, in 
New Jersey, under the most favorable circum- 
stances. The weather conditions were all that 
could be desired. The four hundred forty yards 
were measured straight-away, several sprinters 
jumped into the running and set the pace at 
graduated distances along the course, and the 
previous times were smashed all the way from 
the three-hundred-fifty-yard mark to the tape. 
Long's quarter in 47 seconds beat all previous 
records, amateur and professional, in this country 
and in England. Boardman of Yale, Holland 
of Georgetown, and Haigh of Harvard has each 
won at Mott Haven since Long's day, and in 
excellent time ; but no one has done anywhere 
near his record, and it is one, indeed, that is not 
likely soon to be disturbed. 

Kilpatrick, the world's fastest half-miler, entered 



33^ Track Athletics 

the championship class in the summer of 1894, 
when he won both the intercollegiate and the 
national amateur half mile. Kilpatrick was then 
a student of Union. The half at Mott Haven 
was run in i minute 59|- seconds, and that at the 
national championship in i minute 55^ seconds. 
Kilpatrick, also, won the national amateur cham- 
pionship half mile in the two following years, 
1895 and 1896, in the respective times of i min- 
ute 56|- seconds and i minute 5 7|- seconds. His 
supreme performance, and that on which his 
world's record stands, was made at the games 
between the New York Athletic Club team and 
the Oxford-Cambridge team on September 21, 
1895. There were four men in the race, F. S. 
Horan and C. H. Lewin of Cambridge Univer- 
sity and the London Athletic Club, H. S. Lyons 
of the New York Athletic Club, and Kilpatrick, 
who ran both as a member of the latter club and 
as a student of Union. At the start Lyons and 
Lewin took the lead, and the former, who was an 
exquisite judge of pace, ran the first quarter in 
54^ seconds, as he had been directed to do. Kil- 
patrick, who judged pace poorly, trailed Lyons, as 
he had been instructed, and thus finished the first 
quarter in very fast time — much faster than he 
would have run it if left to his own devices. 
Shortly beyond the quarter-mile mark the cham- 
pion to-be swung ahead into the lead. For the 



Distance Runs and Distance Runners 337 

next two hundred yards he continued to draw 
farther and farther away, and although Horan of 
Cambridge made a game rally and shortened the 
gap a bit in the last one hundred yards, Kilpatrick 
won decisively, sixteen yards to the good. His 
time was i minute 53I- seconds, which broke all 
previous records for the half mile, amateur and 
professional. Horan, himself a runner of the very 
first class, finished in i minute 55I- seconds. As 
far as weather and track went the conditions 
under which Kilpatrick's record was made were 
perfect. The inevitable " if," which almost inva- 
riably tantalizes the spectators of a record-break- 
ing performance, was present here in the shape of 
the embarrassino^ circumstances in which Kil- 
patrick was placed during the race. His running 
clothes became deranged early in the race, and he 
ran the last quarter under such vexation as was 
enough, in the opinion of " Father Bill " Curtis 
and other spectators of similar discernment and 
experience, to have slowed his time a considerable 
fraction of a second. 

The college runner who has come nearest to 
Kilpatrick's form was Evan Hollister of Harvard 
'97. Hollister won the intercollegiate half mile 
three years in succession, in 1895, 1896, and 1897. 
He was relied upon for consistent firsts in the 
half and quarter at dual games, and in team races 
at the winter meets he was an equally reliable 



338 Track Athletics 

performer. His record — the Harvard College 
record, and the fastest college half mile next to 
Kilpatrick's — was made at the Harvard varsity 
games in the spring of 1897. It was the writer's 
pleasure to run — at a discreet distance — in the 
race in which Mr. Hollister made this record, and 
I remember that everybody wished there had 
been some one to push him and make him do 
better. As it was, starting from the pole he 
strode out ahead and ran what was practically an 
unpaced trial from start to finish. It was a fine 
day for running and the track was perfect. Hol- 
lister broke the tape in i minute 54|- seconds, and 
he was quite able to take care of himself at the 
finish. If Mr. Kilpatrick could have been there 
that day and in his 1895 form, there would have 
been a half-mile race worth seeing. Hollister 
was a tall and well-built man, with more body to 
him than most half-milers have. When running, 
his back was held almost perfectly straight, a bit 
too straight perhaps, and the spring seemed to 
come almost altogether from his legs, without 
much aid from up above. But whatever the re- 
sulting picture lost in flexibility and easy litheness, 
it made up in its impression of straight speed and 
power. As one used to see him coming down 
the cinder path, with his back firm, arms down, 
and chin well in, he reminded one of an express 
train on a good stretch of level track. Kilpatrick 



Distance Runs and Distance Runners 339 

raced and won only once at Mott Haven, and 
then, probably because of his inability properly to 
judge pace and his habit of loafing in the first 
quarter, he won only in i minute 59^ seconds. 
Hollister's i minute 56J seconds made at Mott 
Haven in 1896, therefore, stood as the intercol- 
legiate record until equalled in 1904 by E. B. 
Parsons of Yale. 

No half-milers have since come up to step into 
the seven-leagued shoes that Kilpatrick and 
Hollister wore. Burke, who was one of Kilpat- 
rick's contemporaries, lasted long enough to win 
the half in 1898 at the national championships, 
and at Mott Haven in 1899. The latter race was 
won in 1.58^, but Burke was more particularly a 
quarter-miler and his best work was done at the 
shorter distance. J. F. Cregan of Princeton, who 
won the half in 1.58I at Mott Haven, in 1898, on 
the same day that he won the mile in 4.23I-, was 
one of the best middle-distance men who have 
come up since the record was made. Cregan 
had the build and the look of the typical half- 
miler, but he went in most seriously for the 
longer distance and he repeated his Mott Haven 
victory of 1898 in the mile in 1899 and 1900. 
These three consecutive victories, in the times of 
4.23!^, 4.25^, and 4.24I-, are the most consistent 
record for high-class mile running ever made at 
Mott Haven. George Orton of Pennsylvania, 



340 Track Athletics 

and of various athletic clubs, holds the inter- 
collegiate mile record of 4.23I, one-fifth of a 
second better than Cregan's record which he 
made in 1895. Orton won the mile again at 
Mott Haven in 1897, i^^ 4-25- He was an inde- 
fatigable racer and a successful campaigner on all 
sorts of tracks. He won the amateur champion- 
ship miles in 1892, 1893, 1894, 1895, 1896, 
and 1900. His best time for these races was 
4.24I-, which he made in 1894, the year before 
he broke the intercollegiate record, and the rest 
of the times were all respectable. Orton was 
a typical mile runner, short, compact, hard as 
nails, and he ran low, easily, and always craftily. 
This running with one's head, necessary as it 
is in all the distances longer than the dashes, is 
indispensable in such long-drawn-out contests as 
the mile. In the quarter the runner practically 
sprints down to the last fifty yards, when the 
inevitable fatigue overcomes him and he finishes 
" on what he has left " ; in the half the first-class 
racer tries, generally, to do the first quarter in 
from 57 to 59 seconds. He has the sensation of 
" moving up " in the last half, but this is caused 
rather more by the added effort necessary to 
maintain the pace after fatigue has set in than by 
any actual increase in speed. It might almost be 
said, speaking in generalities, that it is the run- 
ner's aim in the half to start out at a pace which 



Dlsiance Rims and Distance Runners 341 

can consistently be maintained from start to 
finish. There are different methods of planning 
out the pace in the mile, but the intelligent runner 
is likely to run his first quarter in the neighbor- 
hood of 65 seconds, the second quarter at about 
the same pace, the third quarter a bit slower, and 
the last as fast as he safely can. To be lured 
into a rash sprinting match in the first part of so 
long a distance as the mile is obviously fatal, and 
yet it is a striking fact that time and again men 
who have all the physical qualifications of first- 
class milers fail merely because they lack the 
self-control and the headwork properly to run this 
race. Certainly, in a large field, where there are 
two first-class runners of practically equal ability, 
one of whom runs blindly and by impulse and the 
other of whom races with judgment, the chances 
of victory are decidedly with the man who runs 
with his " head." To be able to "feel " the pace 
which one can consistently maintain throughout 
a mile race, to settle into it after the spring away 
from the mark, not to be held back by crafty 
campaigners who happen to be especially good at 
the sprint-in to the tape nor to be hurried by 
decoy pace-makers — all this requires endless trials 
of running under the watch, and, when the race 
actually comes, all that the contestant has of 
judgment, self-control, and patience. There are 
times when a scratch man may want to sprint 



342 I rack Athletics 

away at the start for the express purpose of taking 
the heart out of his less experienced and less con- 
fident opponents, or purposely hold back because 
he knows that he can beat them when it comes 
to the sprint home, or when the best way to wear 
out a rival may seem to be to hook one's self into 
his stride, force him to set the pace, and trust to 
taking the fight out of him by a sudden show of 
strength at the finish. All such things depend 
on the runner's temperament and physical condi- 
tion, the fields that he is up against, and the 
special accidents of the race. Whatever is done 
must be done quickly, and any one who has ever 
run a mile or a half mile knows that it is very 
much easier, after the race is over, to tell what 
ought to have been done at any given moment 
than it was to decide during the running, when 
things were moving like the pictures in a biograph 
machine, legs were leaden, and lungs were stone, 
and some rank outsider was showing his heels 
ten or fifteen yards ahead. And it is this strategic 
ability, this trick of thinking in action, that makes 
the difference between the runners who merely 
run pluckily, and those who run and win. 

The two Grant brothers illustrate vividly the 
consequences of running by impulse and run- 
ning with self-control and judgment. The 
younger of these Canadians, representing Penn- 
sylvania, won the two-mile race at Mott Haven 



Distance Runs and Distance Runners 343 

in 1899 and 1900, and in 1903 at the Traver's 
Island track he set the American amateur record 
for this event at 9 minutes 27!^ seconds. He 
won the amateur championships in the five-mile 
run in 1902, in the two-mile run in 1903, in the 
mile in 1899, 1901, 1902, 1903, and in the half 
mile in 1900. None of these races was won in 
phenomenal time, although the performances were 
all respectable enough ; and by them and by ex- 
cellent indoor work the younger Grant is down 
on the books for all time as a successful and con- 
sistent long-distance runner. His older brother, 
on the contrary, never won at the intercollegiates, 
although he carried the Harvard colors for sev- 
eral years, and except for a five-mile dead heat, 
which he ran with his brother for the amateur 
championship in 1899, at Concord Junction, Mas- 
sachusetts, and some minor successes in cross- 
country runs, his name scarcely appears on the 
record books. Yet, when he first appeared on 
Holmes Field, at Cambridge, he was looked upon 
by the undergraduates as a sort of prodigy from 
another world, not governed by the ordinary laws 
of fatigue and speed, tireless and invincible. The 
first morning he came out on the track, if we 
remember correctly, and was told to jog an easy 
quarter or three-eighths, or something like that, he 
clipped out a half mile in 2 minutes 3 seconds, 
pounded on with unabated enthusiasm into the 



344 Track Athletics 

third quarter, and if the trainer hadn't stopped him 
he would probably be running yet. He had been 
bred in Canada, where, so the undergraduates of 
his day believed, almost anything might happen, 
and stories were told of his running fifty and 
sixty miles as a constitutional, of his deserting 
the railroad train and striking off cross country 
whenever he got within a hundred miles or so of 
home. The writer will never forget a hare-and- 
hound run in which Mr. Grant and he happened 
to be the hares. We had scarcely left the back- 
yards and chicken coops of wildest Cambridge and 
struck out into open and uphill country before 
the pace began to become embarrassing, but 
when seven or eight miles had been covered and 
the straight, hard length of Commonwealth Ave- 
nue stretched on endlessly toward town, offering 
not the slightest excuse for loafing — it was when 
we reached this point and Grant, disdaining longer 
to conceal his impatience, whirled round and, 
easily keeping up by running backward, began 
an animated discourse on the evils of intem- 
perance, that we began to suspect that we were 
rather out of his class. The man did seem prac- 
tically tireless. He was hard as nails, and his 
rather heavily built legs with their bulging calves 
— like those of a professional baseball player — 
were perfect dynamos of spring and muscle. He 
was sincere in his training and he had plenty of 



Distance Runs and Dlsfance Runners 345 

sand. In short, on paper he had all the makings 
of a phenomenal runner, and yet the first time he 
went down to New Haven to run in the dual 
games he was fooled by one of the simplest of 
devices — the sending out of a decoy pace-maker 
to set a quite impossible pace for the first quarter 
— ran himself almost out before the race was 
half through, and was beaten by men who should 
really have not been in his class. 

It is far from our purpose so to accent this 
matter of " headiness " as to make the mere win- 
ning of a race overbalance in importance the 
sport itself and the general fun of running. At 
the same time, if racing is worth doing at all it 
is worth doing well, and there is no reason why 
it should lose its zest in any way because intelli- 
gence is used in directing and restraining the 
merely physical impulse to " let loose " and win. 
There are other times in which the straight 
pleasures of running, unadulterated with calcula- 
tion or device, may be indulged in besides those 
trying moments on the cinder path between the 
pistol shot and the breaking of the tape. Com- 
pared with track racing, even such arduous sports 
as steeplechasing and cross-country racing are, 
in a way, leisurely, and their competition takes 
on more of the pleasures of the chase. In the 
next chapter we shall leave the cinder path for 
the turf and follow the distance runners into 
the open country. 



CHAPTER VII 

CROSS-COUNTRY RUNNING IN AMERICA 

It is pleasant to turn from the artificial cinder 
track to the naturalness and freedom of the open 
country and from such gruelling contests as the 
long-distance races to the exhilaration of the cross- 
country run. There is excitement in any sort of 
racing ; and in spite of the strain and struggle of 
such events as the quarter or half or mile races, 
in spite of overwrought nerves and dizzy senses, 
veteran runners learn even to like these treadmill 
battles — to enjoy, in a way, their thrilling pain. 
But few, even of the oldest and most successful 
campaigners, would assert that races as we run 
them nowadays are " fun." Too many men run 
fast nowadays ; the margin of chance is too small. 
It is fun enough after the race is over and you 
have won ; there is infinite satisfaction in fondling 
the cup you have captured and thinking of the 
fight you were able to put up to win it — there is 
fun to come to you in a hundred different ways 
from the strength and confidence and running 
skill which your racing has given you. But as 
for the race itself - — as for those nerve-racking 

346 



Cross- Country Running in America 347 

seconds between the whistle-wail and the moment 
you breast the tape and are taken care of by your 
friends — in f/iat there is no fun. 

Cross-country running, and, above all, hare-and- 
hound running, is fun while you are doing it. 
The farther you go the better you feel — it is an 
increasing joy as long as it lasts — you are free as 
a bird almost. Clothes, sidewalks, ridiculous stiff 
boxes called hats, ridiculous narrow grooves 
called streets, trolley cars, " L " trains, and other 
artificial means of locomotion are thrown aside; 
you're yourself and the world's your own. Are 
there ten miles or so of rough country between you 
and home — ten miles of thickets and meadow-land 
and brooks and rugged hillsides? You've got 
your legs and you've got your lungs, and you know 
them and know what they can do. And so it's 
up the hills and through the thickets and over 
the meadows — hit up the pace and the devil 
take the hindmost ! In all the list of athletic 
sports there is none that will do more to brush 
away from you the dust of overcivilization, that 
will do more to set you on your feet and give you 
a grip on the world than the run across country. 

Cross-country running started, of course, in 
England. English schoolboys were going in for 
hare-and-hound runs as far back as the beginning 
of the nineteenth century. The famous " Crick 
Run " of " Tom Brown's School Days " was 



34S Track Athletics 

started at Rugby in 1837, and at Eton an annual 
steeplechase was established in 1845. The boat 
clubs followed the lead of the schools and the 
general athletic public followed the boat clubs, 
and to-day the cross-country championship in 
England brings out hundreds of competitors. 
Although taken up in a desultory way by American 
schools and colleges during the fifties and sixties, 
the first regular hare-and-hound club— -the West- 
chester Hare and Hounds — was not organized 
until 1878. A book of rules was secured from 
England, officers were elected, and the first run 
was held on Thanksgiving Day. Frank Bunham, 
one of the fast half-milers of that day, finished at 
the head of the pack, and W. S. Vosburgh, who 
was the leading spirit of the club, and the man 
most active in furthering the new sport, was 
second. 

" They had a grand feast that afternoon," writes 
E. H. Baynes, in an article in Outing iox October, 
1893, " and wound up the day with speeches and 
songs- They awoke next morning to find them- 
selves famous. The newspapers devoted whole 
columns to the chase. The comic papers also 
took a hand and represented the runners in any- 
thing but stained-glass attitudes." The American 
Athletic Club Harriers, the next club organized 
near New York City, held its first run on Wash- 
ington's Birthday, 1879. A. A. Jordan, the 



Cross- Country Running in America 349 

hurdler, was among its active members. As 
other clubs were organized the sport gradually 
changed and races over measured courses began 
to be interspersed between the paper chases. 
The first important race of this sort was the five- 
mile run for the individual championship, held by 
the New York Athletic Club in 1883, over a 
course at Mott Haven. The third of these in- 
dividual championships, in 1885, was won by E. 
C. Carter, the " Little Boy in Pink," who had just 
come over from England, and who was presently 
to prove himself one of the most consistent dis- 
tance runners in the country. Club athletics 
were at the height of their popularity at this time ; 
the general public interest naturally spread over 
and included the new sport, and presently the 
Prospect Harriers and the Suburban Harriers 
were organized — the two organizations which 
were to have the greatest influence on cross-coun- 
try running. The Suburban Harriers were or- 
ganized in New York City, while the Prospect 
Harriers were a Brooklyn organization and named 
after the park where so many of their runs were 
to be held. Finally, in March 1887, all the clubs 
in the neighborhood of New York City got to- 
gether, the National Cross-Country Association 
was organized, and the first team championship 
was contested. The Prospect and Suburban 
Harriers and the Manhattan Athletic Club each 



350 Track Athletics 

entered a team. The Suburban runners under 
the captaincy of Carter won, and Carter himself 
captured the individual championship hands 
down. 

Conneff, the future American mile champion, 
came over from Ireland the next spring and joined 
the Manhattan Athletic Club. He was an old 
rival of Carter's and in that year s cross-country 
championship the two men fought it out neck and 
neck at the finish. A few hundred yards from 
the finish Conneff fell, exhausted, and Carter won 
handily. Carter did not compete in i8S8, and the 
race was won by W. D. Day, a boy of nineteen, 
who weighed barely one hundred pounds. Day 
proved himself in the next few years to be the 
best long-distance runner in the country. He 
and Carter soon held almost all the records from 
a mile and three-quarters up to ten miles — 
records which at this writing are still unbeaten. 
Sidney Thomas, the English cross-country run- 
ner, visited the country in 1889 and established 
several records for distances between ten and 
fifteen miles. He competed on March 16, 1890, 
in a handicap steeplechase over an eight-mile 
course at Morris Park, but even with his handi- 
cap of 30 seconds was beaten by young Day, who 
ran from scratch through a field of over one 
hundred handicap men and won easily, although 
the field was ankle deep with mud. 



Cross- Country Rtmning in America 351 

In spite of the great interest which distance 
runners themselves took in the sport the general 
public had never, for obvious reasons, supported 
it with any enthusiasm, and as the prestige of club 
athletics declined the condition of cross-country 
running became rather precarious. The growing 
strength of the Young Men's Christian Associa- 
tion organizations presently helped it along, how- 
ever and then the colleges began to develop the 
sport just as they had stepped in and carried on 
track and field athletics when the clubs began to 
expire. Harvard was the first of them to take up 
paper chasing with any enthusiasm, and as early 
as 1 88 1 what was then looked upon with curiosity 
as " that Rugby sport " was introduced at Cam- 
bridge. Pennsylvania, Cornell, the College of the 
City of New York, and finally Yale and Brown 
began to hold hare-and-hound runs, generally as 
a preliminary training for the track men. In 1890 
Pennsylvania won from Cornell in the first inter- 
college cross-country race, and in the same year 
the College of the City of New York held its first 
championship over the Fort George course. 

Finally, in 1899, at Cornell's suggestion, repre- 
sentatives from that university and from Yale, 
Princeton, Pennsylvania, and Columbia met and 
organized the Intercollegiate Cross-Country As- 
sociation of Amateur Athletics of America — a 
name, as Mr. Baynes — from whose valuable re- 



352 Track Athletics 

searches many of these facts are borrowed — 
remarks, " almost long enough to cover the cham- 
pionship course." The first intercollegiate cham- 
pionship was held at Morris Park on Saturday, 
November i8, 1899. Cornell won, Yale was 
second, University of Pennsylvania third, Colum- 
bia fourth, and Princeton fifth. The individual 
honors went, however, to Cregan, Princeton's 
crack distance runner, who covered the course 
of slightly over six miles in 34 minutes 5|- sec- 
onds. Cornell won again in 1900, Yale in 1901, 
Cornell again in 1902 and 1903. W. E. Schutt 
of Cornell won the individual championship in 
1903, and broke Cregan's record for the course, 
covering it in 33 minutes 15 seconds. At Mott 
Haven, the preceding spring, Schutt also made 
an intercollegiate record in the two-mile run of 
9 minutes 40 seconds. 

Such records as these are not made without a 
hard fight and without straining one's endurance 
to the utmost. A six-mile race over meadow-land 
and hedges is a glorious contest, but it is a formi- 
dable one, too, and not to be lightly gone into by 
boys, or men who are not strong and well-trained. 
But to enjoy the best of cross-country running 
one does not need to go in at all for cross-coun- 
try racing. Racing over a measured course, even 
though that course is laid out in the open, lacks 
the charm of following the trail ; there is no loiter- 



Cross- Coimtiy Running in America 353 

ing to pick up the scent, no call of " Lo-o-ost 
Trail ! " and cheering echoes of " Ta-a-ally Ho ! " 
— it's too much work to be much fun. But even 
the duffer can run with the hounds. As the pack 
strings out, leisurely trotting along the trail, there 
is a place somewhere for the slowest of us. When 
you get to the " break " you can have all the racing 
you want by fighting it out with the real racers 
from the line of paper laid across the road to the 
finish and home. And if you're not a fighter nor 
a racer you can jog home with the rest of the 
duffers conscious of a couple of hours well spent, 
with your lungs full of good air, the coursing blood 
warming your very finger-tips, and many a pleasant 
picture to remember. 



CHAPTER VIII 

HURDLING AND HURDLERS 

The flight over the hurdles is one of the pret- 
tiest pictures ever framed by the turf and trees of 
an athletic field. The swift rush and rise — arms 
outlined like wings — of the high hurdles ; the 
rhythm of the long, low run and " clip " as the 
athlete snaps over the lower barrier with scarcely 
a quaver in the music of his stride — few things 
are more alive and beautiful with the thrill of 
contest and of the out-of-doors. 

The modern style of hurdling has, if anything, 
rather added to the grace of this lively sport. In 
crossing both the high and the low hurdle, the 
runner nowadays tends more and more simply to 
stride across, to remain in the air as short a time 
as possible, and to make the flight over the barrier 
as little as possible a break in stride. The old style 
of going over the hurdle was to bend the leading 
leg so that from the knee down it was almost 
parallel with the hurdle. As a result of this gath- 
ering up of the leading leg there was a perceptible 
moment during which the runner "sailed," so to 
speak, through the air before touching ground with 

354 



Hurdling and Hurdlers 355 

the toe of the leading leg again and resuming his 
stride. When a green runner first starts learning 
to hurdle, this fault is always accentuated, and a 
lot of valuable time is lost in taking the hurdles 
too high. Nowadays the leading leg is bent 
scarcely at all — a matter which depends, of 
course, on the hurdler's length of limb and the 
amount of "spring" he has in him — and the 
runner almost steps over the hurdle just as, in a 
lesser way, he would step over a stone that lay 
in his path. Men like Kranzlein, for instance, of 
great length of limb and extraordinary natural 
spring, seem scarcely to notice the obstacles at 
alL The slight hesitation and gathering of one's 
self together for the spring, which any man, who 
has never tried the hurdles, must feel when first 
negotiating the three-feet-six fences, disappears 
completely, and the ten leaps represent merely so 
many exaggerated running strides. 

In the low " two-twenty " hurdles sprinting 
ability is decidedly an essential ; in the high 
hurdles skill in taking the obstacles is more im- 
portant. The high hurdles are placed only ten 
yards apart instead of twenty yards, as in the 
case of the low hurdles, and it is obviously a very 
difficult thing to work up any particular sprinting 
speed in the three strides which are made between 
the fences. For this reason the high hurdler 
must learn to reach the first hurdle at top speed 



356 Track Athletics 

— to acquire an initial momentum, so to speak, 
which he can maintain through the other one 
hundred five yards. There are only fifteen yards 
in which to work up this head of steam, and it 
is not an easy thing to do ; but if the runner is 
going slowly when he reaches the first of the high 
hurdles he will be pretty sure to be slow all the 
way through. In the low hurdles the mere taking 
of the obstacle does not require the same sort of 
perfected skill to negotiate the high fences, but 
the mere fact that the race is pretty much a 
sprint makes the acquirement of perfect ease and 
rhythm in hurdhng an essential. The spacing 
of the strides and the choice of take-off foot are 
matters of technique, which vary more or less 
with individual athletes, but are of equal impor- 
tance in both events. 

It was not until the early nineties that Ameri- 
can amateurs attained anything like good average 
form in the hurdles. The average time in which 
each of the hurdle events was run during the 
eighties was anywhere from i to 2I seconds 
slower than is now considered first-class hurdling. 
A. A. Jordan of the Manhattan Athletic Club 
was one of the first of our athletes really to per- 
form at the hurdles with distinction. Jordan won 
the high-hurdle national championship four years 
in succession, in 1885, 1886, 1887, and 1888 — 
the latter year in i6|- seconds. Ducharme of the 



Hurdling and Hurdlers 357 

Detroit Athletic Club, O. F. Copeland of the 
Manhattan, F. C. Puffer of the New Jersey Ath- 
letic Club, all sixteen-flat men, kept up the pace 
for the next few years until, in 1894, with Stephen 
Chase of Dartmouth, the college athletes began 
to compete on even terms with the club hurdlers. 
The same men did the winning in the low hurdles, 
and Puffer, who, running with a strong wind and 
knocking down five hurdles, made a record of 
15I seconds in 1892, captured the low-hurdle 
championship in that year, in 1893, ^^^ i^ 1894. 
In 1893 he won in 25I- seconds. The high-hur- 
dle record at Mott Haven was carried below 17 
seconds for the first time, in 1899, by Herbert 
Mapes of Columbia, who won in 16J seconds. 
The record has never been allowed to slip back 
again. Among those who maintained or bettered 
it were Williams, Van Ingen, Cady, Perkins, and 
E. J. Clapp of Yale, Harding of Columbia, Con- 
verse of Harvard, Chase of Dartmouth, E. E. 
Morgan of Stanford, and the seven-league-footed 
Kranzlein. In the low hurdles the Mott Haven 
record was first forced below 26 seconds by J. P. 
Lee of Harvard, with his 2^\ seconds, in 1890. 
Here, too, the record has not gone again above 
26 seconds, and Lee's time has been bettered 
nearly 2 seconds. Fearing, Bremer, and Willis 
of Harvard, Williams, Perkins, and Clapp of 
Yale, all have won championships at Mott Haven. 



358 Track Athletics 

Several of these hurdlers were famous athletes in 
their time — Bremer held the world's record — but 
all of them were so decidedly surpassed by the 
champion, Kranzlein, that that phenomenal jack- 
rabbit stands in a class by himself. Kranzlein won 
both the high and the low hurdles at Mott Haven 
in 1898, 1899, and 1900; he won the national cham- 
pionship in low hurdles in 1897, 1 898, and 1899, and 
in the high hurdles in 1898 and 1899. His record 
of 154- seconds, made at Chicago, June 18, 1898, 
broke all previous world's records for the high 
hurdles, and the same was true of his record of 
23I seconds for the low hurdles made at Mott 
Haven in 1898. Kranzlein won the English 
championship in the one-hundred-twenty-yard 
hurdle in 15I- seconds in 1900, and in 15^ seconds 
in 1901. These times, which were made on grass 
in accordance with the English custom, each sur- 
passed all previous English records, although 
Fox of Harvard did 15^ in the high hurdles at 
the Harvard- Yale-Oxford-Cambridge games in 
1899. No one who ever saw Kranzlein run could 
fail to be impressed by his superabundant lithe- 
ness and "spring." He was tall and very slim, 
with slender legs, and not an ounce of super- 
fluous weight on him. His style was ultra-typical 
of latter-day hurdling form. He apparently took 
very little notice of the hurdles — simply stepping 
over them, so to speak, as they came. There was 



Hurdling and Hurdlers 359 

none of that tenseness and " bearing on " which 
the spectator feels in watching many runners of 
a heavier and more powerful build — the man 
simply romped down the track as easily as a 
greyhound might romp across a clover field. 
Spring, and not strength, was most apparent. It 
seemed simply that he was built that way. 



CHAPTER IX 

THE JUMPS AND THE POLE-VAULT 

In the jumping events " form " is an element 
almost as important as "spring" and "sand." A 
high jumper must master the technique of clearing 
the bar if he hopes to do justice to his strength 
and courage, and, other things being equal, from 
four to six inches may be added to the height he 
can jump merely by changing from a natural, 
haphazard to a " scientific " method. The broad 
jumper must have spring and he must have speed, 
but if he does not know how to strike the take-of¥ 
squarely and with perfect confidence, his physical 
advantages will go to naught. The pole-vault, 
although not strictly a jumping event in the same 
sense that the high and broad jump are, is obvi- 
ously a " trick " event, and one in which form is a 
prime essential. 

The importance of " sand " in jumping is some- 
thing which a great many people are likely to 
belittle or quite forget. Jumping seems to be a 
quiet, one-man sort of amusement, freed from the 
clash and strain of contest, where a fighting edge 
is of comparatively little account. As a matter 

360 



The Jumps and the Pole- Vault 361 

of fact, there is no athletic event, from the mile 
run to a prize fight, where it is more literally true 
than it is, for example, in the high jump, that a 
man can do what he believes he can do — where 
" sand " of a certain sort is more necessary, for the 
simple reason that the element of personal conflict 
is removed, and the only enemy one has to fight 
is abstract height — the number of feet and inches 
that were cleared by one's opponent. There lies 
the bar at what seems an impossible distance 
from the ground. Let the jumper falter for the 
minutest fraction of a second at the take-off, think 
that he is going to miss, and failure is certain. 
Let him believe with all his might that he will go 
over, and as he leaves the ground a quick some- 
thing will often seem to wing his feet and lift 
him above the impossible. The jump, high or 
broad, is very particularly one of those things in 
which you hitch your wagon to a star in order to 
clear an extra inch. 

An illustration which occurs to the writer of 
the potency of a fighting edge in even so mild a 
contest as the high jump was the jumping of 
Kernan of Harvard, at the Oxford-Cambridge- 
Harvard- Yale games, at Berkeley Oval, in the 
autumn of 1901. Spraker of Yale had won the 
event with a leap of 6 feet i^ inches. Rotch of 
Harvard, jumping like music, but ineffectively, 
had dropped out at considerably below what he 



362 Track Athletics 

had often jumped before. Kernan, with all his 
heavy half-back's weight, kept going. He jumped 
like a hippopotamus. Invariably he knocked the 
bar down on the first two trials, but on the third 
and last he quite as invariably came up to the 
scratch and heaved himself over. He lost almost 
all his momentum before reaching the take-off, 
he took the latter sprawling, and yet, by sheer 
strength, sand, and determination, he lifted his 
big body over the bar. One by one his more 
accomplished opponents dropped out, and at the 
end he had won, with the bar at 6 feet ^ inch. It 
is just this abihty to do well in competition, to 
beat one's best, that makes a jumper, as it does a 
miler or sprinter. The jump is not at all the feat 
of a virtuoso, a sort of athleticized parlor trick. 

To the ordinary non-athletic observer there is 
something startling in the magic by which any 
one, by the mere spring of his unaided muscles, 
can throw his whole body over a bar higher than 
his head. The performance is indeed remarkable, 
but in casually watching it, the average observer 
does not notice a fact which reduces somewhat 
the apparent impossibility of the feat. The jumper, 
it must be remembered, does not jump straight 
into the air, so that when his feet are clearing the 
bar his head is his body's length above it, but 
passes over the bar parallel to it, and with his 
body almost horizontal. It is only the soles of 



The Jumps and the Pole- Vault 363 

his shoes, therefore, which really are Hfted to the 
distance at which the bar is set. His head travels 
upward only a few feet, or perhaps even only a 
few inches ; and in perfect jumping form, so far 
as any upward motion is concerned, his head is 
almost as stationary as though it were hinged to 
an imaginary point and the body were a rod, 
which was flung upward and over the bar. 

The style which every good jumper eventually 
drifts into or consciously perfects, is to a certain 
extent modified by his physical make-up and 
mannerisms, and it would be difficult rigidly to 
define what constitutes nowadays perfect jump- 
ing form. Good jumpers run straight at the bar 
nowadays, instead of approaching it from the side. 
The body is in a horizontal position as it goes 
over the bar, and the jumper generally turns in 
the air, so that he lands facing directly toward 
the direction from which he came. Slender men 
of considerable length of limb would naturally be 
expected to excel at high jumping, and generally 
would so excel were the jumper's motions re- 
stricted to a mere spring, with a gathering up of 
the legs and little movement of the body. By 
kicking down and out with the jumping leg, and 
thus turning the body round just as the jumper is 
clearing the bar; by kicking out alternately with 
first the leg that is not used in jumping and then 
the jumping leg, and giving a jerk to the back, 



364 Track Athletics 

shoulders, and hips ; by various movements of the 
legs and body, in short, athletes of all shapes 
and sizes utilize their various personal advan- 
tages, overcome their defects, and make of them- 
selves good jumpers. Nothing can compensate, 
of course, for lack of spring ; and this, which is 
quite another thing from mere strength or muscle, 
can scarcely be acquired by training, but is born 
into an athlete, like the sprinter's speed or a viva- 
cious temperament. Given this "spring" and 
proper form, and almost anything is possible ; 
and one continually sees stocky little men, like 
Rice of Harvard, tying at the same height with 
long-legged men, and heavy athletes, like Ker- 
nan, meeting slender, graceful jumpers on even 
terms. 

With the high jump is always associated the 
name of W. Bird Page. Even though his record 
has been broken, no high jumper has begun to 
acquire the widespread fame that came to him, 
and there are any number of persons to-day who 
have heard the name of Page and associate it 
with extraordinary performances in the high jump 
who would have to examine the books to find 
the name of the present holder of the world's 
record. Page was the first man to clear six feet, 
which was enough to make him famous, and he 
backed this up by such a series of consistent per- 
formances both here and abroad that when he 



The Jumps and the Pole-l^auli 365 

finally cleared the bar at the then unheard-of 
height of 6 feet 4 inches, he was hailed on all 
sides as a phenomenon. 

Page commenced jumping when he was four- 
teen years old. His legs at that time were 
unusually weak, and he was advised to try jump- 
ing to strengthen them. He followed the advice, 
and, as often happens when a man has some such 
incentive for physical exercise, he had soon made 
himself stronger than those who, being naturally 
possessed of normal strength, were not impelled 
specially to develop it. When he had attained 
his growth and his championship jumping form. 
Page was 5 feet 6|- inches in height and pretty 
well built. He first appeared at Pennsylvania in 
the fall of 1884, when he won the high jump with 
a jump of 5 feet 5 inches. It was on the grounds 
of the Young American Cricket Club, in Philadel- 
phia, on May 14, 1885, that Page first demonstrated 
he could clear 6 feet. The actual measurement 
of this jump, according to some authorities, was 
5 feet 1 1 J inches, but there was a mound of loose 
earth directly under the bar which those who saw 
it declared took away at least an inch and a half 
from the actual height which Page cleared. He 
had jumped 6 feet a few days previous to this 
occasion. On the record-books of Pennsylvania 
this jump is given as 6 feet ^ inch. Page, repre- 
senting the University of Pennsylvania, won at 



366 Track Athletics 

Mott Haven in the spring of 1885 with a jump 
of 5 feet I if inches; the following spring with 
5 feet I if inches; and again in 1887, although 
in this latter year he was called upon to do only 

5 feet 7^ inches. None of these records repre- 
sented Page's best jumping form, and, therefore, 
although his 6 feet 4 inches stands as the col- 
legiate record, his best Mott Haven jump has 
been surpassed several times. In the spring of 
1887, at the Pennsylvania games, Page cleared 

6 feet I inch, making a new American and colle- 
giate record. 

Page's remarkable six-foot-four jump was made 
at the Pennsylvania fall games in 1887. The 
meet was a testimonial given in honor of Page, 
as the champion high jumper of the world, and 
he appropriately used this occasion to put his 
record where it would remain for a good many 
years. The same seasons in which Page won 
at Mott Haven he also won at the national 
amateur championships, his best performance at 
these meets being in 1888, when he won with 
a jump of 6 feet -i- inch. In 1887 Page went 
to England, where he was almost as invincible 
as he had been at home. Jumping from turf 
instead of hard clay, he tied at the English cham- 
pionships in 1887 with G. W, Rowdon at an 
even 6 feet, and at the Irish championships 
with P. J. Kelly at 6 feet if inches; and later at 



The Jumps and the Pole- Vault 367 

Stonebridge, on August 15, 1887, he broke the 
English amateur record with a leap of 6 feet 3J 
inches. Page's jumping style was practically 
that of the best jumpers of the present day. He 
approached the bar directly from the front 
slowly, took off from his right leg and twirled 
his body as he was clearing the bar, so that he 
landed on the other side facing the way he had 
come. That his best performance seemed al- 
most incredible at the time it was made is not to 
be wondered at. It is an extraordinary feat, when 
you come to think of it, for a man to leap with- 
out artificial aids from solid ground to a height 
9J inches above his head. 

Once the six-foot mark was cleared there ap- 
peared a number of athletes to keep the record 
high, just as plenty of ten-second men appeared 
after Owen had done better than even time. 
From Harvard came George R. Fearing, Jr., to 
win the high jump at Mott Haven, in 1890, 1891, 
1892, and 1893, oi^ce at 6 feet, and again at half 
an inch better than that. Fearing's 1891 jump 
at Mott Haven of 6 feet was made after he was 
pretty well tired out from running several heats 
in the hurdles. He never, oddly enough, was 
able to jump as well out-of-doors as from a board 
floor, and in the spring of 1890 at some indoor 
games in Boston he made his best record of 
6 feet 2J inches. Fearing was 6 feet i inch in 



368 Track Athletics 

height, and he weighed one hundred seventy 
pounds — proof that in order to jump one does not 
need to be a gazelle. A number of club athletes 
of the early nineties were good for 6 feet and 
over, but the greatest of them, and the only one 
to break Page's record, was Sweeney. Sweeney 
got into the game by winning at the national 
championships in 1892 with a jump of 6 feet. 
He defended his title successfully for three con- 
secutive years, and in 1895, with a jump of 6 feet 
5|- inches, he broke all previous records both in 
this country and abroad. Sweeney already held 
a world's record with his 6 feet 5 inches made 
at the trials for selecting the men to represent 
the New York Athletic Club team against the 
Oxford-Cambridge team, and on the day of the 
international games, September 21, 1895, after 
every one had dropped out, Sweeney was sent 
against his own record. There seemed to be 
something in the air that day which made almost 
every member of the American team surpass 
himself. After two trials in which he grazed 
the bar, Sweeney cleared it cleanly at 6 feet 5|- 
inches. The measurement was made by both the 
English and American judges and its authenticity 
put beyond question. 

Since Sweeney's time a number of jumpers 
have appeared who could do over 6 feet with 
considerable consistency, and compared with 



The Jumps and the Pole-I^aiilt 369 

other events, the standard of the high jump has 
been high. J. D. Winsor, Jr., of Pennsylvania, 
won at Mott Haven in 1896 and 1897 with a six- 
foot-one and a six-foot-three. J. K. Baxter, also of 
Pennsylvania, won in 1899 with a six-foot-two, 
and in addition to that this industrious performer 
won at the national amateur championships in 
1897, 1898, 1899, 1900, and 1902; and at the 
English championships in 1900 and 1901. Bax- 
ter's best record at these meets was in 1897, when 
he cleared 6 feet 2J inches. S. S. Jones of New 
York University won at Mott Haven in 1900, at 
Mott Haven and the national championships in 
1 901, at the English championships in 1902, 
and at the national championships again in 
1903. Of his winning jumps the best was the 
one of 6 feet 2 inches, at the national champion- 
ships in 1 90 1. Kernan of Harvard, who has 
already been mentioned, won at Mott Haven 
with a jump of 6 feet i inch, in 1903. 

The standing high jump has gone out of vogue 
as a regular event, keen as the interest in it used 
to be in the early days of track athletics in this 
countiy. It has not been contested at intercolle- 
giates since 1881, and after a desultory existence it 
was dropped from the national amateur programme 
in 1899. Walter Soren of Harvard was the best 
college performer at the standing high jump, and 
he excelled also in the standing broad. In the 



2)7o Track Athletics 

former event he cleared the really unusual height 
of 5 feet I J inches, in 1880, and in 1881 he 
jumped 10 feet i^ inches in the standing broad. 
Of the club athletes, Malcolm Ford was one of 
the most successful performers at these events, 
and his 10 feet gf inches stood for a time as the 
amateur record for the horizontal distance. All 
of these records of the eighties were eclipsed by 
the performances of Ray C. Ewry of Purdue, who 
cleared 5 feet 5^ inches at the Pan American 
games in 1901, and 11 feet 3 inches in the 
standing broad jump at Syracuse in 1900. The 
standing broad jump is probably the most search- 
ing test of a man's mere ability to spring, unaided 
by the " science " of any perfected style. The 
hop step and jump and its variations, such as the 
jump step and jump, is another of those events in 
which a great deal of interest was taken during 
the early nineties, but which has since gone out 
of vogue. E. B. Bloss's record of 48 feet 6 inches 
for the running hop step and jump, made in 1893, 
at Chicago, still stands. Ford and J. B. Connolly 
are others who used to excel at these somewhat 
artificial events. 

The running broad jump, like the running high 
jump, is one of those natural events which have 
been more or less consciously practised from the 
time the first prehistoric man took a flying leap 
over a prehistoric brook to escape the bill of the 



The Jumps and the Pole-l^atdt 371 

pursuing dinosaurus. There is something appeal- 
ingly practical about these events. Whatever 
skill we acquire we feel is presently going to be 
of use. To-day it is a solid take-off block and a 
stretch of spaded loam ; to-morrow it may be a 
ditch or a hedge with no take-off at all and 
a drop into a mud-hole if one misses. The run- 
ning broad jump is an event that depends rather 
more on speed and spring than it does on the 
finesse of a jumping style. Half the game is in 
getting a good run and a clear, strong take-off, and 
the man who is not in a condition to sprint, who 
cannot approach the take-off time after time at 
top speed easily, is in no shape to do strong and 
consistent jumping. On the other hand, the broad 
jump does not consist, as it is often thought to 
consist, merely in a spring and a perfunctory lift- 
ing of the legs when the runner reaches the take- 
off joist. Almost any good sprinter can clear 
19 or 20 feet with a little practice, but really to 
do anything worth while, according to present-day 
standards, requires not only a great deal of 
"spring " but a great deal of skill in the manage- 
ment of the body as well. What with properly 
spacing one's strides, getting a clear, sure take-off, 
gathering the feet in mid-air and falling forward 
when one strikes the earth, there is plenty of 
opportunity for cleverness and developed skill. 
Loosely speaking, good broad jumpers start their 



372 Track Athletics 

run some 80 to 100 feet behind the take-off, 
get into their stride at a point 50 or 60 feet back 
of the string-piece, aim to reach the take-off at 
top speed and to strike it squarely, and then 
trust to their lucky stars. While in the air the 
broad jumper draws his knees as high up as he 
can and holds them there until just before he is 
about to land, when the legs are thrust out as far 
as possible. It is this movement which often 
gives the jumper the appearance, toward the end 
of his flight, of having taken a fresh start. 

The record jumps of recent years make the 
jumping of the eighties and early nineties look 
rather small. The amateur record in this coun- 
try from 1 88 1 until 1886 was held by J. S. Voor- 
hees of the Manhattan Athletic Club, at 22 feet 
7f inches, and during these years the national 
amateur championships were annually won with 
jumps of from one to two feet shorter, while at 
Mott Haven the best record up to 1887 was 21 
feet 3^ inches. In that year, T. S. Shearman, Jr., 
of Yale won with a jump of 21 feet 11 inches, a 
victory which he repeated in the two succeeding 
seasons, winning in 1889, with a leap of 22 feet 6 
inches. Victor Mapes of Columbia, E. B. Bloss 
of Harvard, and L. P. Sheldon of Yale, all kept 
the figures well up toward 23 feet, and, finally, in 
1898, Meyer Prinstein of Syracuse University 
smashed all previous Mott Haven records with a 



The Jumps and the Pole-Vault 373 

jump of 23 feet yf inches. At the national cham- 
pionships W. Halpin, A. T. Copeland, and C. S. 
Reber had all cleared over 23 feet, but none of 
them had equalled the 23 feet 7 inches with 
which Prinstein won the national championship 
in this same year. That human kangaroo, 
Kranzlein of Pennsylvania, entered the game 
in the following spring with his Mott Haven leap 
of 24 feet 4|- inches and established the present 
intercollegiate record. This seemed a pretty safe 
record, but as a non-collegiate amateur Prinstein 
managed, at Philadelphia, on April 28, 1900, to 
surpass even this extraordinary leap, and with a 
jump of 24 feet j\ inches set a new record for 
the world. This record has since been surpassed 
by the Irish jumper, P. J. O'Connor, with his 24 
feet I if inches. 

The pole-vault may, perhaps, be appropriately 
included among the jumping events, although it 
has nothing in common with the other jumps 
except that it involves the clearing of a bar. It 
is one of the most picturesque of all track sports, 
and invariably excites the awe and astonishment 
of the gentler portion of the gallery. And it is, 
indeed, not without its dangers ; there is always 
the possibility of a fall, and if the pole breaks, as 
occasionally happens, the athlete entertains the 
agreeable prospect of being impaled on the splin- 
tered end. On the other hand, it is a game 



374 Track Athletics 

which requires more of deftness and knack than 
of strength, and even a comparative duffer can 
make a jump which seems to the casual eye a 
good one. Delvers in athletic archaeology have 
advanced the opinion that the pole-vault is the 
outgrowth of the purely utilitarian aid to locomo- 
tion employed by the natives of Cambridgeshire 
in England to vault over the network of drains 
that cross the great Bedford Level — which may 
be true, although it is quite as likely that the 
sport had no such specific and localized source. 
However this may be, it seems to have attained 
as legitimate a place in field athletics as any of 
the less " fancy " events. 

In the pole-vault a man of height is at a dis- 
tinct advantage. His natural grip on the pole is 
at a greater height than the shorter man's, and he 
approaches the bar, therefore, at a handier angle, 
and provided he has the strength and cleverness 
he ought to be able to lift himself over the bar 
with correspondingly greater ease. This was par- 
ticularly true of the old method of pole-vault- 
ing, where the hands kept their position on the 
pole in contrast with the English style of climb- 
ing the pole, hand over hand, while in the air. 
Nowadays the best American pole-vaulters slip 
the lower hand up after the pole has been thrust 
into the ground, so that both hands are together 
on the pole at a distance slightly above the point 



The Jumps and the Pole- Vault 375 

where the pole would touch the bar, and the arms 
are in a natural position for a strong upward 
pull. Two marks, one about fifty and one about 
one hundred feet from the take-off, are used, as in 
the broad jump, and in approaching the bar the 
vaulter attains — as nearly as he can, encumbered 
by the pole — top speed. The body turns as the 
vaulter clears the bar, and he lands, as from the 
high jump, facing the direction from which he 
left the ground. The first vaulter in this country 
to attain anything like our present championship 
form was H. H. Baxter of the New York Athletic 
Club. Baxter was nearly six feet two, weighed 
one hundred fifty pounds, and he cleared 1 1 
feet 5 inches. During the middle eighties he 
was champion for four consecutive years. None 
of the American club athletes of that time sur- 
passed Baxter's records, although E. L. Stone, 
the Englishman, who visited this country in 1889 
and won the national championship in that year, 
had an English record of 1 1 feet 7 inches. The 
pole-vault has always been rather favored by un- 
dergraduates, on account, doubtless, of its novelty 
and picturesqueness and the comparative ease 
with which almost anybody can learn the knack 
of lifting himself a respectable distance into the 
air. Of late years it has been the college athletes 
who have set the pace in this event and made the 
records. With the exception of 1901, which hap- 



376 Track Athletics " 

pened to be an off-year for college pole-vaulters, 
it has required since 1894 a vault of over 11 feet 
to win the event at Mott Haven, and, indeed, a 
man who can't clear very close to that height is 
no longer considered more than a duffer at the 
game. Buchholz of Pennsylvania, McLanahan, 
Allis, Johnson, and Clapp of Yale, Hoyt of 
Harvard, Horton of Princeton, and Gardner of 
Syracuse, all have won at these airy figures 
within recent years at Mott Haven. Horton in 
1902 and Gardner in 1903 each cleared 11 feet 7 
inches, which stood as the collegiate and inter- 
collegiate record until the 1904 record of 11 feet 
j\ inches made by McLanahan of Yale, Gring 
of Harvard, and Gardner. R. S. Clapp of Yale, 
although never able to equal these figures while 
competing in college games, cleared the bar at 
Chicago in 1898 at 11 feet loh inches, and 
McLanahan at the Yale- Princeton dual meet in 
1904 established a world's record of 12 feet ^ inch. 
The best English record is the 1 1 feet 9 inches 
made by R. t). Dickinson of Windmere, at Kid- 
derminster, in 1891. 



CHAPTER X 

THE WEIGHTS AND WEIGHT-THROWERS 

Throwing the weights is a game for big men. 
It is not a sport in which the athlete of slender 
build, however wiry and active he may be, can 
successfully indulge, A big frame and plenty of 
beef are a necessity, and a good head of steam 
behind them. It takes your Flanagans and 
Mitchells, Flaws and Becks and Roses, to do this 
sort of work. Fraxiteles must give way to Michael 
Angelo, and light-footed Mercury to broad-backed, 
colossal Hercules. 

What the weights lose in the thrill of swift 
grace and breathless competition they make up, 
to a certain extent, in the picture they give of 
statuesque strength and power. The mighty 
man who can send the sixteen-pound hammer 
hurling through the air for one hundred fifty 
feet is bound to be worth looking at, to have 
a big, smooth symmetry of development which is 
lacking in his leaner and more angular brothers 
of the track. There is a certain majesty in the 
swing of his great shoulders, in the pillar-like 
stability of his braced legs. Standing there alone 

377 



37 8 Track Athletics 

on the field in the centre of his seven-foot circle, 
swinging the hammer around and around as 
though his whole body were a great animate 
spring which he was somehow winding up, he 
unconsciously but inevitably falls into the sculp- 
tor's poses, and every now and again, when his 
form is perfect, realizes a unity and rhythm of 
motion which could, with almost ideal results, 
be frozen into stone. Putting the shot is a less 
impressive exercise ; the skill of it is little revealed 
in the performance, and yet it too has its statu- 
esque beauty. There stands your shot-putter, 
poised for the throw, one leg holding his weight 
like a pillar, the toe of the other tapping the 
ground tentatively and as lightly as a ballet- 
dancer, the left arm stretched out rigidly straight 
and veering with the balance, the putting arm 
drawn back into a great coiled spring of muscle 
with the shot resting lightly in the palm ; this, 
thrown out sharply against the green of the turf 
and the darker green of the trees that surround 
it, is well worth a moment of any one's eye, even 
though our Hercules proves a duffer, tangles up 
his feet, finishes his second hop with a weak half- 
turn presently, puts no lift or elevation into his 
throw, and thumps the shot on to the cinders a 
scant thirty feet away. 

Hurling the hammer and putting the shot 
began with the Scotch and Irish, so the track 



The IVeights and IVeight- Throwers 379 

tradition runs, and the Celts particularly seem 
to take by nature to the sport of throwing the 
weights. Whether on this side of the water or 
on the other, it has been the Flanagans and 
Mitchells and Kieleys and Morgans and Barrys 
who have, from year to year, most often dug up 
turf at the farthest distance from the line of the 
seven-foot circle or the edge of the take-off joist. 
There is a tradition that the hurlins^ of the chariot 
wheel — a sport which we presume was practised 
when there were still kings in Ireland, was the 
genesis of hammer-throwing, while shot-putting, 
which is said to have come down from the High- 
lands, is, of course, a mere refining on the primi- 
tive throwing of the stone. Hammer-throwing 
is one of the light diversions in which that hardy 
monarch, King Henry the Eighth of England, is 
said to have indulged. It was not until 1866 that 
the weight of the hammer-head was set in Eng- 
land at sixteen pounds, and there was at that 
time no limit to the length of the handle, which, 
until 1896, was of wood. The English threw 
from a nine-foot circle until 1875, and put from 
a seven-foot square. In that year both areas were 
changed to seven-foot circles, which, in 1886, 
were ag-ain changed to circles whose diameters 
were nine feet. In America from 1876 to 1886 
the hammer head, without the handle, weighed 
sixteen pounds, and the length of the handle 



380 Track Athletics 

was limited to 3 feet 6 inches. Since and in- 
cluding 1887, the hammer complete, head and 
handle, weighs sixteen pounds, and the length 
of the handle is four feet. In 1888 the seven- 
foot circle was established in this country for both 
the hammer and the shot. Within this circle the 
hammer-thrower may do anything that he chooses, 
but he must not step over it in releasing the 
hammer or the shot. 

In spite of the fact that bigness and great 
strength are essential in the weights, it is equally 
true that they require a clever skill and finesse, 
which is as absolutely necessary to any respect- 
able performance as it is, to the ordinary observer, 
almost completely concealed. The putting of the 
shot or throwing of the hammer looks like a mere 
feat of brute strength, and it is not until some 
husky football guard, for example, who has been 
accustomed to ploughing like an express train 
through half the opposing team, tries off-hand to 
throw the hammer and ignominiously fails, that 
one suddenly' realizes that there is something in 
the game besides mere beef and steam. Weight- 
throwing requires as clever " foot-work," almost, 
as boxing, and the distribution of the weight of 
the body calls for the subtlest instinct and judg- 
ment. The lengths of the steps, inclination of 
the body, and management of the elbow in the 
shot-put, the speed with which the hammer is 



The PVeights and IVe/gbf- Throwers 381 

swung, the inclination of the body away from the 
hammer, the angle made by the shoulders and 
the plane in which the hammer handle lies, keep- 
ing the feet within the narrow circle without 
losing speed and power — these and other equally 
subtle details are things which only instinct, in- 
tuition, long practice, and intelligently directed 
effort can master and put into effect. Many a 
powerfully built man trains for seasons, perhaps, 
and yet never is able to put the strength he really 
has into the shot as it leaves his hands, or to get 
over the fault of " letting the hammer throw the 
man." 

Requiring as they do so much beef and strength, 
the weights have naturally been more practised 
by the comparatively seasoned and mature 
athletes of the clubs than by college undergradu- 
ates. Those collegians who have gone in for 
weight-throwing over here have, however, reached 
a much higher degree of proficiency than that 
attained by varsity men in England, and at the 
international games the performances of the 
Oxford and Cambridge men as compared with 
our undergraduates have been as a rule almost 
farcical. With his record-breaking 1904 shot-put 
of 48 feet 7J inches the young California giant. 
Rose, entered a class by himself; but for the 
matter of that such performances as those of 
Plaw of California and De Witt of Princeton with 



382 Track Athletics 

the hammer, of Beck and Sheldon of Yale and of 
many other less remarkable college heavyweights 
of recent years, quite take their place beside all but 
the most extraordinary feats of the club athletes. 

George R. Gray, who first came into athletic 
prominence in 1887, when he won the shot event 
at the national championships, has the most 
remarkable record for consistent high-class per- 
formances of any shot-putter that has yet appeared 
either here or abroad. For eight years in suc- 
cession Gray won the shot event at the national 
championships. He won again in 1896 after a 
lapse of one year, and in 1892, fifteen years 
after his first appearance, he won again in the 
same event. Gray was not a large man, and in his 
ordinary clothes he would never have been taken 
for a weight-throwing champion ; but he made up 
in skill and steam what he lacked in size, and he 
was extremely well put together. His records 
were made not only in throwing the regulation 
sixteen-pound shot, but in the twelve, fourteen, 
eighteen, twenty-one, and twenty-four pound shot 
as well. His old world's record of 47 feet for the 
sixteen-pound shot was made at Chicago, on 
September 16, 1893. Until the appearance of 
Rose this record held for America, although it 
was surpassed in Ireland by D. Horgan, the 
Irish champion, with his put of 48 feet 2 inches. 
At Mott Haven the shot was first put over 40 



The Weights and IVeight- Throwers 383 

feet, in 1887, when Coxe of Yale won the inter- 
collegiate championship with a put of 40 feet 9J 
inches. Since then Hickock, Sheldon, Garrett of 
Princeton, McCracken of Pennsylvania, Schoenfuss 
of Harvard, Beck, the intercollegiate champion, 
and various other heavyweights have all put with- 
out difficulty farther than 40 feet. F. S. Beck of 
Yale, the intercollegiate champion, first won in 
1900 with a shot-put three inches better that 44 
feet. Two years later Beck added 5J inches to 
this distance, and in 1903 he again broke his own 
intercollegiate record and set the distance at 46 
feet. 

It is a far cry from the days of '76, when 
" Father Bill " Curtis, throwing from a stand 
without run or follow, hurled the old-fashioned 
hammer 76 feet 4 inches, to John Flanagan's 
throw, in 1901, of 171 feet 9 inches with the 
regulation sixteen-pound hammer, sent from the 
regulation seven-foot circle. Anywhere from 80 
to 90 feet was considered an exceedingly good 
throw in the early days of track athletics, and it 
was not until the hammer handle was lengthened 
from 3 feet 6 inches to 4 feet, the whole hammer 
— head and handle — made to weigh sixteen 
pounds, and the throw from a stand changed to 
a throw within a seven-foot circle with unlim- 
ited run, although no follow, that the distances 
began to creep up above one hundred feet. 



384 Track Athletics 

C. A. J. Queckenberner, the first to win under the 
new rules at the national championships, made a 
throw in 1887 of 102 feet 7 inches. No national 
champion has since won with a throw of less than 
120 feet. In 1889 J. S. Mitchell appeared. He 
won the championship that year and defended it 
successfully for eight consecutive years, until he 
went down before that other brawny Celt, the 
present champion, John Flanagan. Mitchell's 
hammer-throwing was not extraordinary, judged 
by present-day standards, and his better perform- 
ances were at the heavier weights ; but he was a 
very consistent performer, and fourteen years after 
he won his first championship he won again, in 
1903, with a longer throw than he had ever made 
before. There never was a weight-thrower who 
more thoroughly looked the part, and who kept 
on looking the part year after year while more 
meteoric athletes got too fat or too lazy to com- 
pete and dropped out of sight. You can still see 
him now, any day, nearly twenty years since he 
first began to win championships, shouldering his 
huge bulk through the nervous rush of Park Row, 
his broad face tanned winter and summer and look- 
ing as healthy as a side of beef. There are many 
things to see in the newspaper office where he 
works as sporting editor, but none, in that feverish 
and neurotic atmosphere, more cheerful and 
refreshing than the sight of the veteran weight- 



The IVeigbis and IVeight- Throwers 385 

thrower seated at his desk, with a drop-hght shin- 
ing on his tanned face and his audible checked 
waistcoat, and with a pencil gripped in his huge fist, 
placidly writing about some meet of yesterday or 
forecasts for to-morrow. 

The fifty-six-pound weight, with which Mitchell 
performed more brilliantly though no more con- 
sistently than with the hammer, is obviously not 
to be toyed with by any but the most powerful 
men. The throwing of this formidable missile 
is not included at all in the list of college events, 
but it is one of the events contested at the national 
amateur and the national all-round championships. 
The weight is shaped like the shot, but is thrown 
with a shorter and ring-shaped swivel handle. 
The theory of hurling it is the same as that 
used in hammer-throwing, except that the pon- 
derousness of the missile requires an accentua- 
tion of the motions used in throwing the lighter 
ball. The pull exerted by the fifty-six-pound 
v/eight as it swings over the head is very great, 
and it takes unusually strong legs and the most 
skilful adaptation of the principles of hammer- 
throwing even to maintain one's balance, not to 
speak of throwing the weight with any effect. 
Throwing the fifty-six-pound ball with more than 
a single turn is rarely attempted, for the simple 
reason that none but extraordinarily powerful men 
have the necessary strength. The record for 



386 Track Aibletics 

throwing the fifty-six-pound weight from a seven- 
foot circle without follow — the form prescribed at 
the Amateur Athletic Union meets since 1887 — 
is 36 feet 9J inches, and it was made by John 
Flanagan in 1901. Throwing with one hand, in 
what is called the Irish style, with unlimited run 
and follow, Mitchell, in 1903, set up a record of 
38 feet 5 inches. He has thrown it from the side 
with one hand without run or follow — the old 
style in use before the present rule was adopted 
— 27 feet 4 inches. This record was made in 
Canada in 1889, after this method of throwing 
the weight had been given up in this country. 
Throwing for height Mitchell made, in 1897, a 
record of 15 feet 6|- inches, which indicates some- 
w^hat the strength of the man's back and loin 
muscles. 

Discus-throwing is another sport included in 
the programme of the Amateur Athletic Union, 
but not yet regularly practised in the colleges. 
The revival of the Olympic Games at Athens, 
in 1896; and the winning of the ancient Greek 
event by a member of the American team aroused 
interest in discus-throwing and caused its intro- 
duction into this country. The discus is a circu- 
lar disk, made of wood, brass, and steel, eight inches 
in diameter, about two inches thick in the middle, 
and half an inch thick at the edges. It weighs 
about four and one-half pounds. In this country 



The IVeights and PVelgbt- Throwers 387 

the discus is thrown from a seven-foot circle, with 
one or more turns, in a manner similar to that 
used in throwing the hammer, except, of course, 
that the disk is held in one hand and that it is 
thrown fiat, so that it " scales " through the air, 
very much as a clay pigeon sails away from a trap. 
The present record for throwing the discus is 127 
feet 8f inches. It was made by R. J. Sheridan, 
at Celtic Park, Long Island, in 1902. 

It was not long after Flanagan appeared among 
the weight-throwers in this country — he had al- 
ready won the English hammer championship in 
1896, before he won his first national championship 
here, in 1897 — that he showed himself to be 
easily superior to any other hammer-thrower on 
either side of the water. Like Mitchell, he too 
was a big man — a black, shaggy, hirsute animal, 
the perfect picture of a hurler of weights. His 
first winning throw at the national championships 
was nearly ten feet beyond the best previous rec- 
ord at these contests, and his form steadily im- 
proved. He won in 1897 with a throw of 148 
feet 5 inches; in 1898 with 151 feet 10^ inches; 
in 1899 with 155 feet 4^ inches. In 1900 
Flanagan went abroad, and at the English cham- 
pionships, where his fellow-countryman, Kieley,the 
Irish champion, had been winning with throws in 
the neighborhood of 140 feet, Flanagan smothered 
his competitors with the extraordinary throw of 



388 Track Athletics 

163 feet 4 inches. This throw was made accord- 
ing to English rules, of course, in a nine-foot instead 
of seven-foot circle. In 1901 Flanagan again won 
the national championship in this country with a 
throw of 158 feet loj inches, and with a throw 
some seven feet shorter the victory went to the big 
Irishman again the following year. In 1901, at 
Long Island City, Flanagan, throwing from the 
regulation seven-foot circle with unlimited run and 
no follow — the customary manner of throwing the 
hammer in this country — made his world's record. 
This throw was 171 feet 9 inches — more than six 
feet better than Flaw's collegiate record, and any- 
where from fifteen to forty feet better than the 
average performances at college games. 

Although the average undergraduate could not 
be expected to compete successfully with such a 
man as Flanagan, yet there have come up of recent 
years several big men whose performances with 
the hammer put them in the same class with all 
but the most phenomenal of the more mature and 
seasoned veterans of the athletic clubs. Football 
men they have been almost invariably, " giant " 
guards and tackles — such men as De Witt, 
McCracken, Woodruff, Hickock, and Chadwick. 
T. R. Finlay of Harvard was the first man to 
throw the hammer more than 100 feet at Mott 
Haven. This was in 1891, and average ham- 
mer-throwing form has improved so much since 



The IVeights and IVeigbf- Throwers 389 

that time, that a man who cannot throw at 
least 130 feet can no longer be considered a 
really first-string man at Mott Haven. Fol- 
lowing Hickock's throw of 135 feet y^ inches, 
in 1895, the winning throws at Mott Haven in- 
creased in distance until De Witt in 1902 set up 
an "intercollegiate" record of 164 feet 10 inches. 
Plaw of California, who won at Mott Haven in 
1900 with a throw of 154 feet 4J inches, never 
equalled in the East the best of the throws which 
he made at home. His throw of 165 feet i inch 
stood as the collegiate record until 1904, when 
De Witt made a new collegiate record of 166 feet 
5 inches. 



CHAPTER XI 

THE ALL-ROUND INDIVIDUAL CHAMPIONSHIP 

The winning of the individual all-round ath- 
letic championship calls for a man who combines 
in an unusual way the qualities of strength and 
spring. If a record-breaking sprinter, for in- 
stance, represents the acme of specialization, the 
all-round champion embodies the maximum of 
generalization. He does not need to be a per- 
former of the first class in any one event, but 
he must combine in an extraordinary way the 
best physical qualifications of a number of ordi- 
nary individuals. The ordinary man falls below 
in many detached ways what is estimated to be 
the average height and weight and strength. 
The all-round champion is likely nearly to equal 
them. It might be said of him that he is abnor- 
mally normal. 

All-round champions, in the easy way that 
becomes a big and husky man who has won 
out, often say that " any man by proper training 
can become an all-round athlete." Some of the 
individual performances at this annual contest 
might indeed seem to corroborate such a remark, 

390 



All- Round Individual ChampionsJjip 391 

but as a matter of hard fact, to perform creditably 
at this ambitious list of events, ranging all the 
way from the hundred-yard dash to throwing the 
fifty-six-pound weight, requires an athletic devel- 
opment which the ordinary man with ordinary 
training cannot hope to reach at all. It is not 
reasonable to believe that a man weighing less 
than one hundred and fifty pounds could do 
anything with the weight events, particularly 
with the fifty-six-pound weight, nor could the 
very heavy man hope to do much in the pole- 
vault or high hurdles. Whatever the type, there 
must not be a weak spot in the athlete's entire 
make-up, and it has been demonstrated that 
failure to score in any one of the ten events is 
almost sure to prove fatal to a man's chances of 
winning. The all-round candidate must contest 
in ten events. Except for the half-mile walk, an 
antique and rather anomalous event not retained 
in ordinary athletic programmes, the all-round 
events group themselves naturally into three 
classes, each testing respectively the athlete's 
speed, spring, and strength. These nine events 
are as follows : the one-hundred-yard dash, the 
one-hundred-twenty-yard hurdle, and the mile 
run ; the running high jump, running broad jump, 
and pole-vault ; the sixteen-pound shot, sixteen- 
pound hammer, and fifty-six-pound weight. 
Until 1893 the performances which the all- 



392 Track Athletics 

round athlete had to reach in at least seven of 
the ten events in order not to be counted out 
were as follows: one-hundred-yard dash, 1 1^ 
seconds ; one-mile run, 5 minutes 40 seconds ; 
half-mile walk, 4 minutes 30 seconds ; one-hun- 
dred-twenty-yard hurdles, 2o|- seconds ; high 
jump, 5 feet; broad jump, 18 feet; pole-vault, 
8 feet 6 inches; sixteen-pound shot, 32 feet; 
sixteen-pound hammer, 95 feet; hfty-six-pound 
weight, 24 feet. When a contestant failed in 
any three of these events and was forced to drop 
out, his other points were cancelled, so that every 
other contestant whom he had beaten in any 
event was moved up a place. If Jones beat 
Smith and Robinson in the hundred, for exam- 
ple, and was later disqualified. Smith was named 
the victor in the hundred, and Robinson was 
moved up from third to second place. By this 
device it was impossible for a star performer to 
win the competition by specializing in the chosen 
events. First place counted five points, second 
three points,' and third one point. The obvious 
injustice of this method of counting in a contest, 
designed to illustrate all-round development 
rather than specialized development, was that a 
man might show a really remarkable general 
average of performances and yet not finish 
better than fourth or fifth in a majority, or even 
in all, of the events. 



All- Round Individual Championship 393 

A percentage system of counting was therefore 
substituted for the system of counting by points. 
By this scheme the world's amateur record in 
each event is made the maximum performance, 
and any contestant who can equal that record is 
given one thousand points. The standard of 
minimum performances was then lowered so far 
that it would include all performances of which 
any candidate for all-round athletic honors could 
unblushingly be willing to be guilty. The three- 
failures-disqualifying rule was done away with, 
and by a carefully devised system of scoring 
each contestant was to receive proportionate 
credit for his performances, whatever they might 
be, provided that they did not go below the 
minimum standard. This minimum standard is 
as follows: one-hundred-yard dash, I4|- seconds; 
one-mile run, 7 minutes 38 seconds ; half-mile 
walk, 6 minutes 23 seconds; one-hundred-twenty- 
yard hurdles, 22|- seconds; running high jump, 
3 feet 9 inches; running broad jump, 13 feet 
I inch ; pole-vault, 6 feet 6 inches ; sixteen-pound 
shot, 26 feet 2 inches ; sixteen-pound hammer, 
61 feet; fifty-six-pound weight, 15 feet. The 
present system of counting is a great improve- 
ment on the old system of scoring by points, but 
it still, and perhaps inevitably, leaves something 
to be desired. The point at which a man ceases 
to be merely an ordinary duffer citizen with two 



394 Track Athletics 

legs and two arms, and begins to be what may be 
called an athlete, can hardly be measured by a 
regularly graded percentage score. Almost any 
young man who can run at all can learn to run 
one hundred yards in 12 seconds. Not one man 
in a thousand could learn, if he trained all his life- 
time, to run the hundred in 10 flat. And yet the 
twelve-second man, according to the present per- 
centage, gets five hundred thirty-eight points, or 
considerably more than half the nine hundred 
fifty-eight points that are given to the ten- 
second man. In the high jump, again, there is 
a similar difficulty. With the minimum at 3 feet 
9 inches a man who jumps 5 feet is reckoned 
almost " half as good " a jumper as the man who 
equals the record. Yet almost any man with a 
little training could learn to jump 5 feet; not 
one man in ten thousand could learn to jump 
equal to the record. A performance of half as 
many seconds or feet does not necessarily make 
a man "half as good" a performer — such are 
our linguistic paradoxes — and to represent in 
cold figures so vague and meaningless a term 
as " half as good an athlete " is at best a purely 
arbitrary business. And whether or not the pres- 
ent system of minimums and percentages are 
as justly arranged as is possible is a matter of 
individual opinion which we shall not attempt 
here to decide. 



A II- Round Individual Championship 395 

The order of events in the all-round contests is 
as follows: one-hundred-yard dash, putting sixteen- 
pound shot, running high jump, half-mile walk, 
throwing sixteen-pound hammer, pole-vault, one- 
hundred-twenty-yard hurdles, throwing fifty-six- 
pound weight, running broad jump, and one-mile 
run. The endeavor is, of course, to place the 
most tiring events as nearly as possible toward the 
end, but for all that the athlete who can complete 
the last half of the programme with anything 
like the same sprightliness with which he began 
the first part of it must have an immense amount 
of vitality and be hard as nails. 

The individual all-round champions since the 
beginning of these contests, in 1884, are as fol- 
lows: W. E. Thompson, Montreal; 1885, M. W. 
Ford; 1886, M. W. Ford; 1887, A. A. Jordan; 
1888, M. W. Ford; 1889, M. W. Ford; 1890, A. 
A. Jordan; 1891, A. A. Jordan; 1892, M. O'Sul- 
hvan; 1893, E. W. Goff; 1894, E. W. Goff; 
1895, J. Cosgrove; 1896, L. P. Sheldon; 1897, 
E. H. Clark; 1898, E. C. White; 1899, J. Fred 
Powers; 1900, H. Gill, Toronto; 1901, Adam B. 
Gunn ; 1902, Adam B. Gunn ; 1903, Ellery H. 
Clark. 

Of these winners Harry Gill of Toronto made 
the highest score — 6360J points — in 1900. 
Ellery Clark of Boston comes next with his 
6318J points, in 1903. Adam B. Gunn, with his 



39^ Track Athletics 

1902 record of 6260 points, comes third. The 
best records made in the various events were as 
follows: one-hundred-yard dash, io|- seconds, by 
Ford, in 1886; putting sixteen-pound shot, 41 
feet 5 J inches, by Gill, in 1900; running high 
jump, 5 feet ii|^ inches, by Gill, in 1900; half- 
mile walk, 3 minutes 50 seconds, by Gunn, in 
1901 ; throwing sixteen-pound hammer, 122 feet 
8J inches, by Clark, in 1903; one-hundred- 
twenty-yard hurdle, i6|- seconds, by Jordan, 
in 1891 ; pole-vault, 10 feet 4J inches, by Powers, 
in 1899; throwing fifty-six-pound weight, 27 feet 
7^ inches, by Gill, in 1900; one-mile run, 5 min- 
utes 25|- seconds, by Gunn, in 1902; running 
broad jump, 21 feet 8J inches, by Powers, in 1899 ; 
and quarter-mile run, 54I seconds, by Ford, in 
1886. 

All of these performances, except, perhaps, the 
mile, are respectable ; several of them are as good 
as the average winning performances at college 
games of men who make a specialty of one event. 
When a man on the same day can put the shot 
41 feet 5^ inches, jump within half an inch of 
6 feet, throw the fifty-six-pound weight 27 feet 
j^ inches, together with competing successfully 
in seven other events, as Gill did in 1900 ; or throw 
the hammer 122 feet 85- inches, the fifty-six-pound 
weight 25 feet 5I inches, walk the half mile in 3 
minutes 54 seconds, and run the hundred in io|- 



All- Round Individual Championship 397 

seconds, as Ellery Clark did in 1903, it is pretty 
plain that the man who would win an all-round 
championship is up against a pretty tough propo- 
sition. The 1903 champion, Ellery H. Clark, has 
the honor of having won the championship in 1897 
when he was a student at Harvard and then of 
having won again seven years later by an appre- 
ciably higher score than he made when he won 
his first victory. Such work is testimony not only 
to Mr. Clark's constitution and staying powers, 
but to the fact that the all-round championship 
calls more for a matured and consistently devel- 
oped athlete than for the comparatively ephemeral 
skill of the specialist. And the men who have 
won — men like Clark, Gunn, Gill, and the rest 
— have been of this sort, husky, lively, and hard 
as nails. 



. CHAPTER XII 

COMPETITIVE WALKING 

Except as contested by the all-round athletes at 
their annual individual championships, walking no 
longer occupies a serious place in the considera- 
tion of track athletes. The one-mile walk was 
dropped from the Mott Haven programme after 
the games of 1898, and the one-mile, three-mile, 
and seven-mile walk, which were contested at the 
national amateur championships at various times, 
are now no longer seen. The half-mile walk, 
at which the all-round athletes still compete, is 
retained because there could be no just standard 
of comparison between present and past individual 
all-round champions if the programme of events 
should be changed. 

yEsthetically or athletically little good can be 
said of walking as a competitive sport. Natural 
as walking is, and graceful and beneficial as it 
may be made, there is nothing either pleasing or 
normally helpful in walking as it is done on the 
track. The contorted wabbling of the heel-and- 
toe walker is the acme of athletic awkwardness, 
and although long-distance competitive walking 

398 



Competitive M^alking 399 

requires an enormous amount of endurance and 
skill, the proficiency which it brings about cannot 
be used in any normal, natural way. If you learn 
to run fast and well, the strength and skill and 
confidence that you acquire to-day you can use 
to-morrow in beating out an approaching rain 
storm or overhauling a trolley car ; but if you are 
going to take a tramp across country you will 
never do it in heel-and-toe form, and if you want 
to go faster than four miles an hour, you will 
either trot or take some other means of travelling. 
Aside from their esthetic and athletic disadvan- 
tages, the long-distance walks were also undesir- 
able because of the tendency they had to encourage 
petty deception on the part of contestants. To 
maintain a fair gait in heel-and-toe walking the 
contestant must see to it that one foot is on the 
ground before the other leaves it, and that the knee 
is bent only on the leg that is being put forward. 
After the stride is made and the foot is on the 
ground, the knee must be kept perfectly straight 
and unbent until the foot is lifted from the ground. 
Obviously this unnatural position is hard to main- 
tain, and it is trebly so when the stress of contest 
is driving the contestant to quicken his pace and 
run. It takes not only complete honesty, but an 
unusual self-control, on the part of the athlete, not 
to walk unfairly — not, now and then, to "skip" 
for a stride or two. The mental strain of the 



400 Track Athletics 

thing is so intense, that even with the best of 
intentions a contestant is pretty likely to " break " 
now and then in spite of himself. The position 
of a judge called upon to watch a large field of 
contestants, some of whom may be so unscrupu- 
lous as not to mind running for a few steps if they 
can do so when the judge's back is turned, is 
about as difficult as that of the traditional base- 
ball umpire of the comic paragraph. Some one 
is pretty sure to be treated unfairly ; not every 
one can possibly be satisfied. For all of which 
reasons, and others doubtless, walking as a track 
contest has been dropped from athletic pro- 
grammes and has lost its place in popular regard. 
So slow, so ugly, and so stupid a sport could 
not, obviously, appeal very strongly to the average 
undergraduate, and while walking was being done 
in this country the performers on college tracks 
were, for the most part, inferior to those made 
under club auspices. Among these club athletes 
Frank P. Murray, who walked during the early 
eighties, waS one of the most notable. Murray 
still holds a dozen or so records for various dis- 
tances from one-third of a mile up to three miles. 
The half mile he did in 3 minutes 2|- seconds; 
the mile in 6 minutes 29I- seconds ; the two miles 
in 1 3 minutes 48I- seconds ; and the three miles in 
21 minutes 9^^ seconds. These records were all 
made in 1883 and 1884. Burckhardt of the New 



Competitive IValking 401 

York Athletic Club, Parry of the Williamsburg 
Athletic Club, Lange of the Manhattan, G. D. 
Baird, and C. L„ Nicoll were among the other 
well-known walkers of those days. At the inter- 
collegiates the three-mile walk was contested in 
1876 and won by T. R. Noble of Princeton, in the 
slow time of 28 minutes 2 1\ seconds. It was never 
contested again. The two-mile walk was contested 
in 1877, 1878, and 1879, and then dropped. The 
mile walk remained on the Mott Haven pro- 
gramme until after the games of 1898, It was 
not done in under seven minutes until 1892, when 
F. A. Borcherling of Princeton won it in 6 min- 
utes 52^ seconds. This record held until broken 
by W. B. Fetterman, Jr., of Pennsylvania, whose 
time of 6 minutes 42^ seconds, somewhat more 
than a dozen seconds behind the world's amateur 
record, stands as the intercollegiate record. 



CHAPTER XIII 

INTERNATIONAL GAMES — ENGLISH AND AMERICAN 
TRACK ATHLETICS 

The story of international track athletics begins 
with the early eighties, when several of the indi- 
vidual athletes who had been developed by that 
time in this country left their victories behind 
them and set out to find new worlds to conquer. 
They found them all right enough and their suc- 
cess encouraged others, so that hardly a record- 
breaking performer has appeared during the past 
twenty years who has not amused himself by 
gilding his fame with a few victories on foreign 
fields. Brilliant specialists like Meyers, Page, 
Wefers, Kranzlein, and Arthur Duffey have thus 
carried their successes abroad. Numbers of 
athletes of lesser brilliancy have won occasional 
victories at the English summer championships. 
Even in the shadow of the Parthenon the laurel 
has been won by young Americans who were 
Greeks in muscle and spring at any rate, however 
little they may have known of or cared for Arte- 
mis or Apollo. And then, most pleasant of all to 
remember, are those days on which the tradi- 



International Games 403 

tional varsity rivals of ours and of the mother 
country have joined forces against each other, 
and our young athletes of Harvard and Yale 
have met those of Oxford and Cambridge on the 
same field and track. 

Long before track athletics were organized in 
either country and before the distinction between 
amateur and professional was in any way accu- 
rately defined, George Seward, the New Haven 
sprinter, had gone to England and beaten every 
one in sight at all distances up to a quarter mile. 
That was in 1844. Nearly twenty years later, 
Deerfoot went to England and beat out all the 
distance men. In 1878 C. C. Mclvor of Mont- 
real, \\\\o had won the hundred at our national 
championship the year before, went abroad and 
entered in professional races. He was badly 
beaten. The first real American amateur to com- 
pete in England, so the late " Father Bill " Curtis 
once wrote, was probably Mr. Richard H. Dud- 
geon. Mr. Dudgeon had offices in both London 
and New York, belonged to both the New York 
and the London Athletic Clubs, and competed 
in both countries under the colors of each club. 
Beginning with the early eighties the records of 
the annual English championships are frequently 
punctuated with the names of American athletes 
— spiked-shoed adventurers setting out from 
home cocky in their strength, flying, in spirit, the 



404 Track Athletics 

privateer's flag. The phenomenal Meyers and 
E. E. Merrill, the champion American walker 
of that day, were the first of them. They 
went abroad in 1881. Meyers won the quarter- 
mile championship and made a new English rec- 
ord of 48^ seconds for the distance. Meyers 
weighed only one hundred eleven pounds, and his 
body, when in repose, was not pretty. " Father 
Bill " Curtis told a story of an Englishman who 
happened to get into Meyers's dressing-room. 
"Ton my soul," said he, "the fellow's nothing 
but skin and bones and porous plawsters." 

A number of Englishmen came over to Amer- 
ica during the next few years, most of them to 
stay. The most notable visitor was W. G. George, 
the English mile champion. He contested a 
triple match with Meyers — a mile, a three-quar- 
ters, and a half. Meyers won the half easily 
enough and George the mile ; the three-quarters 
was taken by George. In 1884 Meyers went 
abroad again, this time accompanied by several 
other American athletes. The only ones of these 
to distinguish themxselves were W. H. Meek, who 
won the seven-mile championship walk and sev- 
eral other walking races, and Meyers himself, whose 
triumphal course has been described in another 
place. In 1885 Meyers again went abroad and 
again beat everything in sight. In 1885 a team 
of Irish athletes visited Canada and the United 



International Games 405 

States. Barry, the hammer-thrower, of Queen's 
College, Cork, was among them. He won the 
Canadian championship. Purcell, another of the 
party, won the Canadian high-jumping champion- 
ship and took second place in the American 
individual championship. Several of the others 
gave a fair account of themselves. In 1887 an- 
other party of American athletes went to Eng- 
land. W. Bird Page, the high jumper, was the 
best of them. In the English and Irish cham- 
pionships he was unlucky, tying in each with his 
nearest rival ; but on other occasions he won at 
such heights as 6 feet i inch, 6 feet 2^ inches, 
and 6 feet 3^ inches. This last performance was 
at that time the world's record. 

In the same autumn, C. G. Wood, an English 
quarter-mile champion, C. W. Clarke, a distance 
runner, and T. Ray, the English pole-vaulting 
champion, visited us. Ray was the only one to 
succeed. He won the national championship, and 
in another competition made a new American 
record of 1 1 feet 4J inches. Ray's performances 
were the first exhibitions in this country of the 
English style of climbing the pole, and they were 
viewed, naturally, with great curiosity and interest. 
In 1888 a squad of American athletes from the 
Manhattan and New York clubs visited England. 
Carter, C. W. Clarke, and Conneff, all of whom 
were newly transplanted Americans, were among 



4o6 Track Athletics 

them. Of the rest, Jordan, the jumper. Westing, 
the sprinter, and Gray, the shot-putter, all distin- 
guished themselves by winning at the champion- 
ships. In the autumn of the same year another 
lot of Irishmen came over, among whom was J. S. 
Mitchell, who was presently to be the American 
weight-throwing champion. This team was badly 
managed, took sides in several unseemly squabbles, 
and finally went to pieces. The following year 
several English athletes came across the water, 
most of them to remain. E. L. Stones of the 
Ulverstone Cricket and Football Club won the 
Canadian and American pole-vaulting champion- 
ships and returned to England. In the summer 
of 1 89 1 a large party of Manhattan Athletic Club 
men went to England and Paris. Malcolm Ford 
tied for the English broad-jump championship, 
C. A. J. Queckenberner established new English 
records in the hammer and fifty-six-pound weight, 
and Luther Cary and Remington won a number 
of victories' in the sprints. At Paris that summer 
the Manhattan athletes won every first except that 
in the broad jump, which was captured by Victor 
Mapes of Columbia. 

The first team of college track athletes to be 
sent to England was the Yale team of 1894. 
This team met the Oxford team on the Queen's 
Club grounds, in London. Oxford won by a 
score of 5J to 3J. L. P. Sheldon of Yale tied 



International Games 407 

for the high and won the broad jump ; Hickock 
of Yale won both the shot and hammer. The 
other five events went to the EngHshmen. This 
was the first real " international " match between 
representative teams of England and America. 
The next international match was the meet be- 
tween London Athletic Club and New York Ath- 
letic Club teams, at Manhattan Field, September 
21, 1895. Each club was permitted to elect new 
members especially for this match. Many of the 
best college athletes of both England and Amer- 
ica were thus drawn in, and, in fact, the teams 
represented pretty adequately the track athletic 
strength of the two countries at that time. As 
everybody remembers, the games were won by 
the Americans with what was the most extraor- 
dinary collection of performances that had ever 
been witnessed on any field or track. World's 
records in the half mile, the two-twenty, the high 
hurdles, and the high jump were broken, and the 
world's record in the hundred was equalled. It 
was no wonder that the Englishmen, good and 
plucky men as they were, were beaten. The 
American team won every event, and had the 
firsts all been disregarded, the Americans would 
still have won by a score of 6 to 5. The sum- 
mary of that meet was as follows : one-hundred- 
yard dash, won by B. J. Wefers, 9 J seconds ; 
two-hundred-twenty-yard dash, won by B. J. 



4o8 Track Athletics 

Wefers, 2 if seconds; quarter-mile run, won by 
T. E. Burke, 49 seconds flat; half-mile run, won 
by C. H. Kilpatrick, i minute 53I- seconds; one- 
mile run, won by T. P. Conneff, 4 minutes i8J- 
seconds ; three-mile run, won by T. P. Conneff, 
15 minutes ^6^ seconds; high hurdles, won by 
S. Chase, I5f seconds (this was faster than the 
world's record at that time, but it could not be 
accepted as a record because Chase knocked over 
one of the hurdles); broad jump, won by E. B. 
Bloss, 22 feet 6 inches; high jump, won by M. F. 
Sweeney, 6 feet 5f inches ; shot-put, won by G. R. 
Gray, 43 feet 5 inches ; hammer-throw, won by 
J. S. Mitchell, 137 feet 5 J inches. 

A fortnight after these meets Yale and Cam- 
bridge held dual games at New Haven. A num- 
ber of the athletes on either side had contested 
against each other at New York. Yale won by 
a score of 8 to 3, and she also won 7J seconds 
as against the 3^ seconds of the Cantabrigians. 
The Englishmen won the quarter-mile, half-mile, 
and mile races, and proved, what has many times 
been demonstrated, that leaving out exceptional 
individuals, Englishmen are superior to Ameri- 
cans in the distance runs. 

The first of the revived Olympian Games were 
held at Athens in 1896. A party of American 
athletes went over to try their fortunes, and they 
won almost every event in which they entered. 



IntemaUonal Games 409 

T. E. Burke won the one hundred meters and four 
hundred meters, corresponding very nearly to our 
one-hundred-yard dash and quarter-mile run. 
F. E. Lane of Princeton was second in the one 
hundred meters, and H. B. Jamison of Princeton 
in the four-hundred-meter hurdle race; Ellery 
Clark won the high jump, with Garrett of 
Princeton and J. B. Connolly of the Suffolk 
Athletic Club tied for second place. Clark also 
won the broad jump, with Garrett second and 
Connolly third. W. W. Hoyt of Harvard won 
the pole-vault, Connolly the running hop step and 
jump, and Garrett the discus-throw and shot-put. 
There were even rifle and revolver shooting 
contests, and these were won by two American 
brothers, sons of General Paine, the yachtsman. 

A number of individual American athletes 
competed in English games at this time under 
various auspices. John Corbin, who won the 
Mott Haven half mile for Harvard in 1893, 
entered Balliol College, Oxford, in 1894, and 
engaged in varsity college sports with some suc- 
cess. Another Harvard man, J. L. Bremer, inter- 
collegiate champion and holder of the world's 
record in the low hurdles, also entered Balliol in 
1896, and competed in college sports. The low 
hurdles were almost unknown in England, how- 
ever, and in other events Bremer was not able to 
attain to his hurdling form. Richard Sheldon 



4IO Track Athletics 

won second and third places in the shot and ham- 
mer respectively at the English championships, 
in 1897, and a year later George Orton of Penn- 
sylvania won the two-mile English steeplechase 
championship handily. 

In the summer of 1899 the first really repre- 
sentative international college games were held. 
After long negotiations it was finally arranged 
that the teams of Oxford and Cambridge should 
meet those of Harvard and Yale. The American 
team was picked after the spring games had all 
been held, and when the class-days were over and 
vacation had begun, the lucky young gentlemen 
who had been chosen to represent their college 
and their country sailed for England on the same 
steamship. The date of arrival had been so 
arranged that there was only time for a short 
preparation at Brighton before the games, and 
it was hoped in this way to escape the enervat- 
ing effect of the Eno-Hsh climate. In a sreneral 
way the attempt was successful, and with the 
exception of Burke, who was positively ill, the 
American team came on the Queen's Club 
grounds on July 22 in good condition. When 
the nine events had been fought out, however, 
the British flag fluttered to the top of its pole to 
show that the home team had won, and the score 
was 5 to 4. The Americans won the hundred, 
the high hurdles, the high jump, and the hammer 



International Games 411 

throw; the Englishmen won the quarter, half, 
mile, three-mile, and the broad jump. The best 
performance of the American team was made 
by F. Z. Fox of Harvard, who won the high 
hurdles in 15^ seconds, which broke the English 
record. Quinlan of Harvard won the hundred 
in 10 flat ; Arthur Rice of Harvard won the 
high jump at 6 feet; and Boal won the hammer 
event with a throw of 1 36 feet 8^ inches. 

From a social point of view the Oxford- 
Cambridge-Harvard- Yale meet of 1899 was all 
that one would wish it to be. King Edward, 
then Prince of Wales, witnessed the games, as 
did also the American minister. After the con- 
test was over the defeated athletes were enter- 
tained at tea on the terrace of the House of 
Commons and everything was done that could 
be done to make the event one pleasant to 
remember. Whatever the college athletes who 
were defeated in this contest may have lacked in 
athletic proficiency was made up by the specialists 
who went over in 1900 to compete at the English 
championships and the Paris Exposition games. 
Kranzlein, Prinstein, Tewkesbury, Cregan, Flana- 
gan, Long, Orton, Baxter, Ewry, Duffey — it was 
no wonder that the Americans vanquished pretty 
nearly everybody at Paris. In London the 
Americans won eight of the thirteen English 
championship events, in Paris out of twenty- 



412 Track Athletics 

four scratch and so-called world's-championship 
events the Americans won i8, England 4, Hun- 
gary I, and France i. In England the hundred- 
yard dash was won by Duffey, the quarter mile 
by Long, the one-hundred-twenty-yard hurdle by 
Kranzlein, the long jump by Kranzlein, the high 
jump by Baxter of the University of Princeton, 
the pole-vault by Johnson of Yale, the shot by 
Sheldon of Yale, the hammer by John Flanagan. 
In Paris the one-hundred-meter dash was won 
by Jarvis of Princeton, with Tewkesbury, formerly 
of Pennsylvania, second ; the four-hundred-meter 
dash by Long, with Holland of Georgetown sec- 
ond; the twenty-five-hundred-meter run (slightly 
more than i J miles) by George Orton, with Newton 
of the New York Athletic Club third; the one- 
hundred-ten-meter hurdle race by Kranzlein, with 
McLean of the University of Michigan second 
and Maloney of the University of Chicago third; 
the four-hundred-meter hurdle race by Tewkes- 
bury, with Orton third ; the sixteen-pound shot 
by Sheldon of Yale, with McCracken of Pennsyl- 
vania second and Garrett of Princeton third ; the 
high jump was won by Baxter of Pennsylvania, 
and the broad by Kranzlein, with Prinstein sec- 
ond ; the pole-vault by Baxter, with Colket of 
Pennsylvania second. All of the above events 
were so-called world's championships. Of the 
other scratch events the sixty-meter dash was 



International Games 413 

won by Kranzlein, with Tewkesbury second ; the 
two-hundred-meter dash by Tewkesbury ; the two- 
hundred-meter hurdles by Kranzlein ; the stand- 
ing high, standing broad, and standing triple 
jumps by Ewry, the Purdue champion, contest- 
ing: under the colors of the New York Athletic 
Club, with Baxter second in both and Garrett 
of Princeton third in the "standing triple"; the 
running hop skip and jump by Prinstein, with 
J. B. Connolly second and L. P. Sheldon third ; 
throwing the hammer by Flanagan, with Hare 
of Pennsylvania second and McCracken third. 
A scrub team which included Flanagan, Hare, 
McCracken, Garrett, R. and L. P. Sheldon, won 
the tug of war. The events which the English 
athletes won were the eight-hundred and fifteen - 
hundred meter runs, the five-thousand-meter team 
race, and the four-thousand-meter steeplechase. 
The discus-throw went to Hungary, and the so- 
called Marathon race of somewhat over twenty- 
four miles went to France. 

The fourth international meet between the 
track teams of American and English universi- 
ties was that held at Berkeley Oval on September 
25, 1901, between the teams of Oxford and Cam- 
bridge and Harvard and Yale. The Englishmen 
came over by way of Canada and defeated the 
Gill University team at Toronto before contest- 
ing in New York, but they were defeated — true 



414 Track Athletics 

to the precedent that the home team wins in 
international contests — -by Harvard and Yale by 
a score of six to three. The day and track were 
perfect, both teams fit, and although the home 
team won twice as many points the victory was 
by no means a lightly plucked one. The Eng- 
lishmen had excellent material, their distance 
men were far and away superior to ours, and their 
sprinters and hurdlers were of the first class. 
There was not quite the same eclat surrounding 
the contest at Berkeley Oval that there had been 
two years before on the Queen's Club grounds ; 
but the meet was nevertheless a very charming 
affair, and from a purely athletic point of view 
more successful perhaps than either of the other 
three international varsity games. The most 
interesting events of the day, and the ones in 
which the best performances were made, were the 
distance runs — the mile, won by Mr. Cockshottof 
Trinity College, Cambridge, and the half and 
two mile runs, won by the Rev. H. W. Work- 
man of the same college and university. The 
personality of both these runners added consider- 
ably to the interest which was inevitably aroused 
by the brilliancy of the performances. Mr. Cock- 
shott was a slender, shy-looking young man, with 
a very engaging countenance, and one of the 
easiest running styles I ever saw ; the Rev. Work- 
man ran very awkwardly, but to be a clergyman 



International Games 415 

in fact and appearance and yet able to win with 
comparative ease in the same afternoon a half 
mile in i minute 55I- seconds and a two-mile 
race in 9 minutes 50 seconds was a feat calculated 
to rouse in the most blase spectator curiosity 
and enthusiasm. The mile was won by Mr. 
Cockshott in 4 minutes 2ii seconds. He ran 
the first three-quarters rather slowly, and then 
set such a pace for the last lap that his 
rivals were quite unable to approach within 
striking distance. The last hundred yards he 
came on very fast and quite unpushed and alone. 
H. W. Gregson, also of Cambridge, was second ; 
H. B. Clark of Harvard, whose mile in 4.31^ 
at the intercollegiates the preceding spring in a 
pouring rain, and on a track that was a perfect 
quagmire, suggested that he ought to do 4.25 
at least, was held back too long by the slow 
pace of the three-quarters, and not being strong 
at sprinting he was beaten out for third place by 
his heretofore inferior college mate, H. S. 
Knowles. In the half mile the Rev. Workman 
was sent out against Kilpatrick's record. There 
was no one to pace him, both quarters were too 
slow for a record half, and i.55f was the best he 
could do. J. R. Cleave of Oxford was second 
and E. B. Boynton of Harvard third. In the 
two-mile run Workman had it all his own way 
and won handily in 9.50, with E. W. Mills of 



41 6 Track Athletics 

Harvard second and C. J. Swan of Harvard 
third. The Enghsh hurdlers showed plainly 
enough that the previous intercollegiate contests 
had not been without their effect. Converse of 
Harvard won the event in I5|- seconds, but 
Garnier of Oxford, who was a close second, ran 
in almost American hurdling form, and E. All- 
cock of Cambridge was third. In the hundred 
the starter, by mistake, sent his men away from 
the wrong mark, so that they ran one hundred 
five yards, making their time for the even hun- 
dred probably a shade better than lo flat. The 
time for the whole distance was io|- seconds. 
N. H. Hargrave of Yale won, A. E. Hind of 
Cambridge was second, and J. E. Haigh of Har- 
vard was third. The other events resulted as 
follows : four-hundred-forty-yard dash, won by E. 
C. Rust of Harvard in 50 seconds, Dixon Board- 
man of Yale second, and R. W. Barclay of Cam- 
bridge third ; running high jump, won by J. S. 
Spraker of Yale, 6 feet i\ inches, R. A. Kernan of 
Harvard second, 6 feet ^ inch, S. Howard Smith 
of Cambridge third ; running broad jump, won 
by J. S. Spraker of Yale, 22 feet 4 inches, A. W. 
Ristine of Harvard second, W. E. B. Henderson 
of Cambridge third. Throwing sixteen-pound 
hammer, won by W. A. Boal of Harvard, 136 
feet 8 inches, E. E. B. May of Oxford second, 
and W. E. B. Henderson of Cambridge third. 



International Games 417 

That climate plays no inconsiderable part in 
deciding the results of international contests, 
particularly those between English and American 
athletes, is a fact vividly enough demonstrated by 
the many instances in which athletes have gone 
completely off form on foreign fields, and testi- 
fied to almost unanimously by American athletes 
who have contested in England, and to a less 
extent by Englishmen who have competed here. 
As far as the ability to perform up to one's ordi- 
nary standard is concerned, Americans seem to 
be more hindered by the English climate than 
Englishmen are hindered by ours. To the high- 
strung American athlete the mild, humid climate 
of England is peculiarly enervating, and the 
longer he stays in it the worse his condition 
seems to get. Men who have kept in fairly good 
condition by exercising on shipboard, and then 
have contested a few days after reaching England, 
have done far better than those who have spent 
considerable time in becoming — as they hoped 
— acclimated. Englishmen, on the other hand, 
who have contested over here have become ner- 
vous, out of sorts, and have felt unfit generally, 
and yet have surprised themselves by performing 
as well as they had ever performed when feel- 
ing in good condition at home. The conclusion 
which this suggests is that there is something in 
the American climate — by which in this place 



4i8 Track Athletics 

we must mean the climate in the neighborhood 
of New York, Boston, and New Haven — which 
stimulates an athlete's nervous energy. Removed 
from this stimulus the American athlete loses 
snap and becomes lazy and listless ; the English 
athlete, at least the sprinter, when put into it can 
become out of sorts and almost ill, and yet as far 
as mere performances go retain his normal form. 
Arthur Duffey had as good an opportunity as 
any one thoroughly to test the effects of English 
climate upon an American sprinter. Duffey con- 
tested in all parts of the United Kingdom for 
several seasons, and the results of his stay abroad 
were always the same. " I have noticed," said he, 
" that my first races were always the fastest, and 
that gradually my form fell off, until, by the 
end of the season, I would wonder how it was 
that it was ever possible to accomplish the phe- 
nomenal time that I was credited with." Mr. John 
Corbin, who won the half mile for Harvard at 
Mott Haven in 1893, and Mr, J. L. Bremer, 
Harvard '96, who held the world's record in his 
day in the low hurdles, both spent considerable 
time as graduate students at Oxford. Mr. Bremer 
found that he steadily lost snap and suppleness, 
and he was beaten in the quarter mile in time 
distinctly inferior to his best in America. Mr. 
Corbin's experience was similar, and he came to 
the conclusion that "clearly the effect of the 



International Games 419 

English climate is to reduce the athlete's power 
both of sprinting per se and of sprinting at the 
finish of the race." That the American climate 
has just the opposite effect on English sprinters 
was suggested by the experience of the English 
team which contested here in 1895. The heat 
was extremely oppressive at the tim,e the games 
were held in New York, most of the English team 
were more or less under the weather, and sev- 
eral were positively ill, yet one of the sprinters 
in spite of his wretched condition went consid- 
erably above his previous best. The enervating 
effect of the English climate on American athletes 
has been shown on various occasions ever since 
1869, when the Harvard four-oar was sent over 
to compete on the Thames. With the same 
amount of work that would have been sufficient 
at home the men became so stale that two substi- 
tutes had to be put in the boat. In the race the 
" subs " — probably because of the brevity of their 
training — pulled the strongest oars in the boat. 
The Yale track team which met Oxford in 1894 
had a similar experience — accentuated probably 
by the fact that instead of training at Brighton 
or elsewhere on the coast they trained in the 
warm Thames Valley. Cornell and Yale crews 
which have rowed at Henley have suffered the 
same sorry experience. The Harvard- Yale team, 
which went abroad in 1899, got their land legs at 



420 Track Athletics 

Brighton in comparatively bracing sea air. Instead 
of attempting to acclimate themselves in England, 
they did their hard training in this country, tried 
to keep in fair shape while on board ship, and only 
took a few days for preparation and for getting 
the feel of the Queen's Club track. As a result 
the team was in better shape than any other team 
that had been sent abroad, and had not one man 
been actually ill, it would almost certainly have 
Vv'on. The acknowledged superiority of English 
distance runners would suggest that in the long 
run the English climate assists in producing stay- 
ing power. Certainly the Englishmen have that 
quality, and in the acquiring of it an atmosphere 
which discourages speed and conserves rather 
than excites nervous activity may well be assumed 
to play a part. 

One cannot go far in the consideration of in- 
ternational games and the lessons to be learned 
from them without becoming entangled in the 
eternal question of the relative merits of the 
English and American attitudes toward sport. 
The lament over the seriousness with which we 
take our college contests has long ceased to be 
original, and the charm of English outdoor sports 
is something that we all have got into the habit 
of admitting with a sigh. That we have taken, 
and do take, our sports too painfully goes without 
saying, and it is not strange that an undergradu- 



International Games 421 

ate, pounded round a football field for weeks in 
the autumn until he can scarcely look a pair of 
moleskins in the face, or going a bit stale as the 
spring gets warmer and time trials come every day, 
should dream enviously of the lot of the Oxford 
or Cambridge blue, of Henley, and of track and 
football games that are like a garden party. But 
in thus appreciating the charm that may surround 
outdoor sport it is not wise too lightly to disre- 
gard sport's sterner and more austere virtues, and 
it is not only unwise, but absurd, to put in the 
same category differences of rules and regulations 
which may be changed and transplanted in a day 
with differences of race and temperamental make- 
up which are inherent and which can only be 
changed by the gradual influence of time. 

The faults and virtues of English and Ameri- 
can sport are the faults and virtues of English 
and American life. The zeal for success and the 
determination to achieve it at all hazards are no 
more typical of the American undergraduate 
overtraining himself for the mile run than they 
are of the undergraduate's father following the 
pace of his business until he drops from nervous 
prostration. We are but as our fathers are. 
The young Oxonian, neglecting to master the 
technique of shot-putting or hammer-throwing, 
and trusting to his strength and sand and pluck 
to pull him through somehow on the day of the 



42 2 Track Athletics 

games, is no more typical of his country than is 
his country's army, drifting pleasantly along with 
its polo-playing officers until there arrives some 
Boer War reckoning, and dogged strength and sand 
and pluck have to pay the price that staggers hu- 
manity. Smith of Oxford doesn't worry because 
he isn't built that way ; Jones of Harvard does 
worry because he ts built that way, and it is as 
absurd to tell him that he might get more fun 
out of his running if he didn't worry as to tell 
him he might cut a bigger figure in the world if 
he were four inches taller. Jones doesn't worry 
because he likes to worry ; he has run on easy- 
going paper chases and across country in his vaca- 
tions, and he knows, you may be sure, when 
running's fun. But Jones knows he has been 
chosen to run against Yale, and that is a very big 
and serious thing to him. He doesn't want to 
place the victory above the sport, but a race is a 
race, and when you're in a race it's your business 
to win. That seems to be logic and sound ethics. 
Jones doesn't see why you should wait until the 
starter's pistol snaps before taking the thing seri- 
ously, and if by any scourging of the flesh he can 
honorably improve his chances of winning, he is 
going to do it. Perhaps Jones, in his strenuous- 
ness, will go stale and not do as well by his col- 
lege as he would have done if he had taken things 
more easily. Perhaps Smith, with his lack of 



International Games 423 

preparation, will throw the hammer about half as 
far as he ought to or jump a foot or so less than 
he has often jumped before. Perhaps it will be 
the other way — and there you are. 

There are, it will be observed, two points of 
view which it is difficult to reconcile. Sport is 
more important than victory, and when sport be- 
comes a painful task it ceases to be sport. On 
the other hand, if you have been chosen to repre- 
sent your college in a contest, that contest be- 
comes without a reason for being, and you become 
a sort of quitter if you do not do as well in it as 
you might have prepared yourself to do. Ethi- 
cally speaking, there is little difference between 
failing to be properly prepared and failing to do 
one's best. Mr. Corbin, considering the English 
attitude toward sport from the seriously ethical 
standpoint, says : " There is something peculiarly 
displeasing in a public opinion that makes sports- 
manship a young man's ideal and then permits, 
even encourages, him to do less at it than he rea- 
sonably and honorably can. ... If athletics have 
any real reason for being it is that in the way of 
sport they train young men to take up the 
struggle for existence and, win or lose, to do their 
honorable best in it. To tell them that transient 
personal convenience is better than thoroughness 
and devotion is, in any modern theory of life, the 
depth of immorality." One retort which might 



424 Track Athletics 

be made to such an austere argument as this, vig- 
orous and admirable as it is in spirit, is that it 
tends to confuse terms, — that sportsmanship and 
athletic efficiency are assumed to be synonymous. 
Sportsmanship, as a national ideal, we assume to 
mean the general attitude toward life of a man 
whose body and mind have been trained in sports 
and who conducts himself in the world of affairs 
with that same courage, frankness, and generosity 
which he would use on track or field. Such an 
ideal is not necessarily inconsistent with the 
somewhat dilettante methods of training enjoyed 
by the English undergraduates. It is very easy to 
carry this rigidly ethical point of view too far when 
applying it to so flexible a subject as sport. A 
Harvard or Yale half-back who would break train- 
ing on the night before the annual game would 
bring upon himself disgrace which he might never 
be able quite to live down. The same man might 
be chosen by his table-mates at Memorial Hall 
or the Yale Commons to represent them in an 
inter-table tennis match, might eat so many dishes 
of ice-cream or strawberries that he couldn't put 
up a respectable game, and the delinquency would 
be dismissed as a joke. It is so impossible, in 
fact, rigidly to define any attitude toward training 
that will fit all conditions, all individuals, and 
perfectly reconcile the desire to make sport a 
pleasure with the determination to do one's best 



International Games 425 

to win, that the whole question appears to us one 
less of ethics than of taste and common sense. 

Both Americans and Englishmen can learn 
much from each other. It would not detract 
in any way from the polite charm of English 
games if the weight-throwers, for instance, took 
the trouble to learn the proper technique of the 
hammer and shot ; and our track athletes might 
get much more fun out of their training, not 
injure, and for the matter of that, often better, 
their chances of doing well in competition if they 
trained a bit more easily and varied their exer- 
cises more. Our undergraduates might with 
advantage learn to depend less on professional 
trainers ; it was very pleasant to see the Oxford- 
Cambridge team at Berkeley Oval in 1901 with- 
out a single professional attendant, not even a 
rubber. There is nothing inherently ungentle- 
manly in the mere employment of a professional 
helper, and a trainer or even a rubber may be 
as harmless as a Greek tutor or a riding-master. 
Yet there is no doubt that the more completely 
the professional atmosphere is removed, even as 
exemplified in the diluted form of professional 
trainers and helpers, the more pleasing is the 
atmosphere surrounding amateur games. Many 
such tangible and practical lessons we can learn 
from our English cousins, but things that result 
from inherent differences of temperament or social 



426 Track Athletics 

conditions cannot informally be borrowed or ex- 
changed. No more can we hope, nor should we 
desire, to borrow offhand those superficial aspects 
of English varsity sport which make it most 
charming. You may fill the Hudson from shore 
to shore with eight-oared crews, but you cannot 
thereby construct an American Henley. On the 
day of the Oxford-Cambridge game the young 
gentlemen who are presently going to eat their 
hearts out on the track may assemble at their 
dressing-room in frock coats and top hats in the 
most casual manner in the world ; should a Cor- 
nell or Princeton team present themselves at Mott 
Haven in such a costume, they would be laughed 
at from Portland to San Francisco. The polite 
charm, reposeful ness, and msouciance which ap- 
peal so strongly to those accustomed to the 
overwrought atmosphere of American collegiate 
athletics are not peculiar to English sport, but 
are the natural results of a society as old and 
aristocratic as that of England. Similar differ- 
ences would be just as certainly met with in 
comparing English and American universities, 
or dinners or architecture or country houses or 
afternoon teas. 

The big and important things for young Ameri- 
cans to think about in going into track athletics 
are fairness and frankness and courtesy and 
generosity. Strength and seriousness and sand 



International Games 427 

and a fighting-edge they have in plenty. It is 
no business of theirs to worry about the urbanity 
and amenity of the sports of their English cousins 
any more than it is their business to lament be- 
cause the cloistered calm of Oxford or Cambridge 
is not completely duplicated at Ann Arbor or 
Chicago. If they go about their training sanely 
and sensibly and win, and are beaten like sports- 
men, they can afford to neglect gilding the lily. 
The virile and austere virtues they have. In due 
time, if they order their sports properly, the graces 
shall be added unto them. 



INDEX 



Abell, L., 189 n. 

Adeline, four-oared shell, 22. 

Albany, boat clubs of, 152, 153, 167, 

176. 
National Regatta at, 183. 
Alcyone Boat Club, Brooklyn, 147. 
Alcyone Club, New York, 152. 
Allcock, E., 416. 
Alleghany Association of boat clubs, 

148. 
Allen, William C, 11. 
Allen, Yale stroke, 106. 
Allis, pole-vaulter, 376. 
Allyn, G. S., 134 n. 
Alpha Boat Club, 23. 
" Amateur " defined by National 

Association of Amateur 

Oarsmen, 47, 163-164, 

169, 178-179. 
American Athletic Club Harriers, 

348-349- 
Amateur Athletic Union of the 

United States, 264, 265, 

386. 
American Institute Fair regattas, 

13, 21, 22. 
American Rowing Association, 191- 

195- 
American Star, barge, 5, 6. 
Amherst College, athletic team from, 
270-271. 
Freshman crews of, 38, 42. 
In Saratoga Regatta (1875), 50- 

52. 
Record-making race of (1872), 
41-42. 



Amherst College \_continued'\ — 

Track athletics at, 279-281. 

Yale crew defeats, 46. 
Analostan Boat Club, 152, 163. 
Annapolis Naval Academy, rowing 

at, 39-40, 72, 140. 
Ann Arbor, athletics at, 285-286. 
A line, barge, 12. 
Argo Boat Club, 152. 
Argonauta Boat Club, 163, 167. 
Argonauta four, 165-166. 
Ariel, four-oared boat, 7. 
Ariel Boat Club, Baltimore, 147, 152. 
Ariel Boat Club, New York, 7. 
Armstrong, James A., II, 21. 
Arnold, Charles, 11. 
Atalanta Boat Club, New York, 21, 

46, 153, 163, 188. 
Atalanta eight, 105, 167. 

In England, 160. 

Yale's race with, 105-106. 
Athens, athletic meet at. See Olym- 
pian Games. 
Athletic Boat Club, Harlem, 163. 
Atlanta, Brown University boat, 30. 
Atlanta, Yale boat, 17. 
Australia, sculling in, 200, 201. 
Avon, Harvard lapstreak, 30. 

Babcock, John C, 162, 237-238, 257. 

Bachelor, barge, 10. 

Bachelor's Barge Club, 24. 

Bacon, F, S., 331. 

Bacon, J. S., 14. 

Bacon, Wilbur, 32, 33, 227, 234. 

Bacon, William P., 29. 



429 



430 



Index 



Bailey, of Atalanta Club, 21. 

Bailey, P. H., 117 n. 

Baird, G. D,, 401. 

Baker, Wendell, 275, 307, 314, 332, 

333-334- 
Baltimore, boat clubs of, 152. 
Bancroft, Harvard oarsman, 56, 57, 

60, 66, 74, 81. 
Bancroft stroke, 103, 211. 
Bangs, Francis S., 124, 128. 
Baptist, John, 4. 
Barber, runner, 270. 
Barclay, R. W., 416. 
Barry, weight-thrower, 379, 405. 
Battery Pet, double scull, 22. 
Baxter, H. H., 375, 411, 412, 413. 
Baxter, J. K., 369. 
Baynes, E. H., quoted, 348, 351- 

352. 
Beach, champion sculler, 200, 201. 
Beacon Cup Regatta, 23, 148. 
Beard, W. M., 117 n. 
Beaty, Charles, 5. 
Beaverwyck crew, Albany, 59, 167. 

In Centennial races, 167-168. 
Beck, F. S., 377, 382, 383. 
Beckhardt, T. F., 173. 
Becky Sharp, eight-oar, 25, 
Beneway, Ezekiel, 155. 
Benjamin, Edmund, 83. 
Bennett, James Gordon, cups donated 

by, 271. 
Berkeley Oval, Qxford-Cambridge- 

Harvard-Yale games at, 

361-362, 413-416, 425- 
Berry, four-oared boat, 25. 
Bibbins, William B., 14. 
Bicentennial Regatta, Philadelphia, 

178. 
Biglin, Bernard, 151, 160. 
Biglin, J. A., 196. 
Biglin, James, 151. 
Biglin, John, 44, 148, 151, 156, 159- 

160. 



Biglin four, the, 26, 33, 35, 151, 155, 

159-160. 
Binks, J., 324. 
Birdseye, Henry C, 14. 
Bishop, Mortimer, 317. 
Blackstaffe, English sculler, 184, 185. 
Blades of oars, 241-243. 
Blaikie, William, 33-34, 40, 227. 

Quoted on old methods of train- 
ing, 227-228. 
Blair, sprinter, 290. 
Blake, R. P., 194. 
Bloss, Edward B., 311, 319, 408. 

Jumping by, 370, 372. 
Blue Devil, barge, 6, 7. 
Boal, W. A., 411, 416. 
Boardman, Dixon, 335, 416. 
Boat clubs, Albany, 152, 153, 167, 176. 

Boston, 19, 22-23, 163, 164. 

Chicago, 27, 163, 167, 179-180. 

Early college, 14-17. 

Early New York, 7, 21. 

Harvard, 14, 16-17, 143-144. 

Milwaukee, 25, 147. 

Organization of, attempted, 162- 
164. See National Asso- 
ciation of Amateur Oars- 
men. 

Revival in, after the Civil War, 

151-153- 
Springfield, 152. 
Troy, 152, 176. 
Two oldest, lo-il. 
Washington, D.C, 152. 
Bond, James, 69. 
Bonine, F. M., 285, 307. 
Borcherling, F. A., 401. 
Boston, regattas at, 26, 35, 148, 149, 
151, 197, 202. 
Rowing interests at, 13, 22-23, 

179, 180. 
Scullers from, 186. 
Boston Athletic Association crew, 
106. 



Index 



431 



Bowdoin College, crews from, 41, 
46, 47, 50, 83-85, 94-95, 
98-99, 10 1, 106. 
Saratoga record of (1875), 52 n. 
Weight of 1 89 1 crew, 234. 
Bowie, R. Ashurst, 24. 
Boyd, C. S., 58. 
Boynton, E. B., 415. 
Brandegee, Harvard captain, 78. 
Brayley, sculler, 197. 
Bremer, J. L., 291, 357, 358, 409, 

418. 
Brewster, William C, 18 n. 
Briggs, Cornell stroke, 118. 
Brooks, H. S., Jr., 277, 278, 305, 307. 
Brown, A., of Yale crew, 117 n. 
Brown, David Walter, 155-157, 159. 
Paper single scull first used by, 

236. 
Patents sliding seat, 237. 
Brown, George, 196. 
Brown, Joseph H., 18 n. 
Brown, J. S., 314. 

Brown University, freshman crews 
of, 38, 41, 42. 
Rowing aspirations of, 28-29, 3°> 

32, 44- 
Saratoga Regatta record, 52 n. 
Varsity races of, 30, 32, 41, 47- 

48, 50-52, 98-99. 
Browne, H. G., 24. 
Brush, Alfred, 11. 
Brush, E. A., 11. 
Bryant, Harvard stroke, 92. 
Buchholz, pole-vaulting by, 376. 
Buckham, President, letter of, 283- 

284. 
Buckley, Edwin A., 14. 
Buel, Henry W., 14. 
Buermeyer, H. E., quoted, 258, 259. 
Bunham, Frank, 348. 
Bunke7- Hill, eight-oared boat, 13. 
Bunker Hill Day races, 190. 
Bunker Hill Regatta, 23. 



Burckhardt, walker, 400-401. 

Burger, William, 155. 

Burgess, Tristram, Jr., 11. 

Burke, T. E., 334-335, 339, 408, 

409, 410. 
Burnell, C. D., 132. 
Burnham, Arthur, 35. 
Burns, Hugh, 21. 
Burt, John, 4. 
Bush, James S., 14. 
Byne, Henry, 14. 

Cabot, Dr. Hugh, 194. 
Cadogan, sprinter, 315, 317. 
Cady, hurdler, 357. 
Caffrey, William, 186. 
California, college athletics in, 291- 
292. 

Rowing in, 138. 

Track athletics in, 262-264. 

See University of California. 
Cambridge, Eng., crew in America, 

58, 167-168. 
Cameron, of Atalanta Club, 21. 
Camilla Boat Club, 24. 
Cammeyer, Alfred, 5. 
Cammeyer, Cornelius, 5. 
Canada, fours from, 1 88, 
Carlisle, of Atalanta Club, 21. 
Carr, W., 189 n. 
Carter, E. C, 405. 

Cross-country running by, 349, 

350- 
Distance running by, 329-330. 
Gary, Luther, 303, 305, 308, 310, 

406. 
Castle Garden Amateur Boat Club 

Association, 7, 8, 12-13. 
Catlin Boat Club, 180. 
Cedar, racing boats of, 236. 
Centennial Exposition races, 58-59, 

167, 197, 
Cententtial io\xx, Detroit, 178. 
Centiped, Yale boat, 14-15. 



432 



Index 



Centre Harbor, Harvard-Yale race 

at, 17-18. 
Certairi Death, race of, against 

American Star, 6. 
Chadwick, Daniel, 14. 
Chadwick, weight-thrower, 388. 
Chambers, John, 4, 5. 
Chambers, Robert, 159, 237. 
Chambers, "William, 4, 5. 
Championships, all-round athletic, 

395-397- 
Mott Haven, 272, 277, 279, 289 ff. 
Chapman, four-oared boat, 13. 
Charles River Amateur Association, 

23- 

Charleston, S.C., regatta, 24-25. 
Charlestown, Mass., regatta, 23. 
Charlton, of Atalanta Club, 21. 
Chase, Stephen, 291, 357, 408. 
Chebucto Boat Club, 24. 
Chelsea, Mass., regattas, 13, 16. 
Chester, John, 11. 
Chicago, boat clubs of, 27, 163, 167. 

College athletic meet at, 286. 

Regatta at, 25. 
Chicago Navy, 179-180. 
Childs, George W., 67. 
Childs Cup Races, 67, 68, 72, 78-79, 
80, 89, 90, 91-92, 96, 99, 

105- 
Churchill, Winston, identified with 

Naval Academy rowing, 

140. 
Cinder path, first, 259. 
Citizen's Regatta, Worcester, 32, 33, 

148. 
Clapp, E. J., 357. 
Clapp, R. S., 376. 

Clark, Ellery H., 395, 396, 397, 409. 
Clark, H. B., 415. 
Clarke, C. W., 405. 
Clarke, T. L., 117 n. 
Cleave, J. R., 415. 
Cleopatra, eight-oared boat, 7. 



Climate, effect of, on athletes, 323, 

417-420. 
Close, W. B., 58-59. 
Cochem, Wisconsin athlete, 290, 
Cockshott, runner, 414-415. 
Cole, W. E., of Leland Stanford, 139. 
Colket, pole-vaulter, 412. 
College Boat Club, Pennsylvania, 44, 

67. 
College of New Jersey. See Princeton 

University. 
College of the City of New York, 

cross-country running 

team of, 351. 
College Union, regattas held by, 28- 

32. 
Superseded by Rowing Associa- 
tion of American Colleges, 
40. 

CoUins, W. W., 58. 

Colson, F. D., 113 n., 146. 

Columbia Boat Club, Brooklyn, 163. 

Columbia Boat Club, Washington, 
177. 

Columbia College Boat Club, 44. 

Columbia University, beginnings of 
rowing at, 32, 44, 46. 
Competes for Childs Cup, 68-69, 

72-73- 
Downing Cup race of, 102. 
Freshman races of, 102, 106, 107, 

108, 109-110. 
Flenley visit of (1878), 61-64, 

171-172, 214. 
In Centennial Regatta, 58-59. 
Lake George races of, 69-70, 73. 
Poughkeepsie races of, in, 114- 

115, 117-118. 
Races shared in by, 46-47, 50, 

56-57, 61, 74, 77-78, 92- 

93. 94-95. 99. 100, 102, 

104, 124-125. 
Wins at Saratoga (1874), 48-49. 
Condon, weight-thrower, 264. 



Index 



433 



Conkling, M., 21. 

Conley, sculler, 200. 

Conneff, T. P., 261, 324, 330-332, 

350, 405, 408. 
Connolly, J. B., 370, 409, 413. 
Conover Boat Club, 21. 
Converse, hurdler, 357, 416. 
Cook, Robert J., 49, 58, 91, 93, 123, 
126. 

English trip of, 43. 

Harvard helped by, at Saratoga, 

57- 
Theories imported from England 

by, 141-142, 211. 
Yale coached by, on English trip, 
115-117, 141. 
Cook stroke, the, 43-44, 48, 56, 102. 
Cope, runner, 281. 
Copeland, A. T., 373. 
Copeland, O. F., 261, 270, 357. 
Corbin, John, 409. 

On effect of English climate, 

418-419. 
On English attitude toward sport, 

423- 
Corbin, of Yale crewr, 102. 
Cornell, R. C, 62. 
Cornell Navy, birth of, 39. 
Cornell University, advent of, in row- 
ing, 44. 
Athletic association at, 281. 
ChildsCup races of, 91-92,96, 105. 
Courtney coach at, 92, 117, 123, 

135, 220. 
Henley races of, 75-76, III-114. 
Hughes (Thomas) visits, 39. 
In Centennial Regatta, 58. 
Lake George races of, 69-70, 73, 

83-85, 89-90. 
Minnesota trip of, no. 
Pennsylvania agreement, 74-75. 
Poughkeepsie races of, in, n4- 
115, 117-118, 121-122, 
135-137- 

2F 



Cornell University \_conHnued'\ — 
Saratoga races won by, 51-52, 

56-57- 
Seaman Cup presented to, 123. 
Sharpless Cup race of, 105. 
Trip abroad (1879), 75-77. 
University of Wisconsin vs. crew 

of, 124-125, 128-130. 
Yale's refusal of challenge from, 

65. 
Corsair, six-oared boat, 8. 
Cosgrove, J., 395. 
Costumes, running, 309. 
Coulter, Harry, 40, 44, 157, 160, 196- 

197- 
Counting of points in games, 391- 

394- 
Courtney, Charles E., 92, 104-105, 

n7, 123, 135, 168, 197, 

198-199, 220. 
Cowie, English runner, 327. 
Coxe, Alexander Brinton, 24. 
Coxe, weight-thrower, 279, 383. 
Cracker, William, 4. 
Cregan, J. F., 339, 352. 
Crescent Boat Club, Boston, 180. 
Crescent Boat Club, Philadelphia, 59, 

152, 162, 167. 
Crimson appears as Harvard color, 

16. 
Cr alius, barge, 12. 
Crolius boats, 7, 11. 
Cross, Yale stroke, 102. 
Cross-country running, 261, 344, 

346-353- 
Crouching start, the, 300-303, 309, 

3"- 

Crowell, Josiah B., 14. 
Crowninshield, Benjamin W., 29. 
Crowninshield, Frank, t,t^. 
Crowninshield, Frederick, 148, 1 51. 
Crowther, Samuel, Jr., 134 n. 
Cruni, John, 289, 298, 310, 313. 
Cummings, runner, 323-324. 



434 



Index 



Cunningham, William H,, l8 n. 
Curran, Hugh, 21, 22. 
Curtis, C. P., 77. 
Curtis, H. G., 151. 
Curtis, Thomas J., 18 n. 
Curtis, W. B., 27, 291, 331, 332, 337, 
383, 403, 404. 

New York Athletic Club founded 
by, 257. 

Spiked shoes first worn by, in 
America, 258-259. 

" Who is the Amateur ? " by, 162. 
Curtis Peck, six-oared boat, 13. 
Curtiss, Julian W., 194. 
Cuyler, T. De Witt, 194, 277-278. 

Dan Bryant, four-oar, 26, 27, 151. 

Danforth, H. A., 57. 

Daniel D. Tompkins, barge, 10. 

Darbishire, S., 37. 

Dart, double scull, 1 3. 

Dartmouth College, crews from, 44, 

50-52. 
Dauntless Boat Club, 152. 
Davenport, F. L., 134 n. 
Davis, M. F., 70, 78, 80-81, 84, 

87-88, 198. 
Inventions of, 70-72, 84, 240-241. 
Davis, professional sprinter, 259. 
"Davis rig," the, 70-71. 
Daw, oarsman, 27. 
Day, W. D., 350. 
De Baecke, H., 189 n. 
Decker, W. K., 21, 22, 25. 
Deerfoot, runner, 254, 255, 403. 
Delaware Boat Club, 180, 184. 
Dempsey, James, 198. 
Design of racing boats, 236-237. 
Detroit, Amateur Athletic Union 

first meets at, 264. 
Regattas at, 169, 178. 
Detroit Athletic Club, 264, 285. 
Detroit Boat Club, lo-ii, 182-183. 
Devins, A. L., 47. 



De Witt, weight-thrower, 381-382, 
388, 389. 

Dexter, A. P\, 175. 

" Diagonal line race," the, 46. 

Diamond Sculls, American cham- 
pions compete for, 171, 
184, 185, 187. 

Dickerson, of Pennsylvania four, 91. 

Dickinson, R. D., 376. 

Discus-throwing, 386-387, 409, 413. 

Disoivned, barge, 8, lo. 

Dixon, Thomas, 4. 

Dohm, runner, 334. 

Dole, pole-vaulter, 292. 

" Donkey engine stroke," Davis', 88. 

Don Rowing Club, 187. 

Dorian, Sidney, 8-9. 

Dorr, Sullivan, Jr., il. 

Douglas Boat Club, 180. 

Downing Cup races, 102. 

Downs, runner, 270, 334. 

Downs, Walter H., 170. 

Diiajie, four-oared boat, 20. 

Duane Boat Club, 21. 

Dublin University, crew from, in 
Centennial Exposition Re- 
gatta, 167-168. 
Pennsylvania University crew 
beats crew of, 134. 

Ducharme, hurdler, 286, 356-357. 

Dudgeon, Richard H., 403. 

Duffey, Arthur, 305, 309, 31 1, 312. 
Career of, 315-320. 
-Effect of foreign climate on, 418, 
In England, 402, 411, 412. 

Dulles, John W., 14. 

Duluth Boat Club, 180. 

Dunham, George, drowning of, 29. 

Dunlap, of Atalanta Club, 21. 

Duquesne Boat Club, 167. 

Durand, W. F., 194. 

Durell, Henry, 170. 

Dusseau, Stephen, 170. 

Dutchess, barge, 12. 



Index 



435 



Dutchess County crew, 159-160. 
Button, C. S., 45. 
Dwight, John, 18 n. 
Dyer, G. P., 113 n. 

Eagle, barge, 12. 
Eagle Aquatic Association, 153. 
Easton, Howard, 275. 
Edson, Cyrus, 65. 

Edwards-Moss, English sculler, 171. 
Edwin Forrest, barge, 10. 
Eisenbrey, R. H., 134 n. 
Eldredge, of Columbia crew, 79. 
.Eliot, President, on early college 

freshmen, 267. 
Elizabeth Boat Club, 59, 167, 174, 

175- 
Elliot, boat-builder, 36. 
Ellison, J. H., 29. 
Empire City Regatta, 148. 
Empire City Regatta Club, 25. 
England, American athletes in, 402- 

407, 409-411. 
American crews in, 75-76, iii- 

114, 115-117, I3I-I34, 

214-215. See Henley. 
American oarsmen in, 170-172, 

176-177, 184-185, 187, 

199. 
American sprinters in, 306, 318. 
Atalanta crew in, 160. 
Athletes from, in America, 336, 

361-362, 368, 375, 404, 

405, 407-408, 413-416, 

425. 
Brown (Walter) in, 159. 
Columbia four in, 61-65, '7^> 

214. 
Cook's visit to, 43. 
Crews from, in America, 58, 159- 

160, 167-168. 
Deerfoot's feats in, 254, 403. 
Effect of climate of, on American 

athletes, 323, 417-420. 



England {continued^ — 

Harvard crew visits, 35-37. 

Hurdlers from America in, 358. 

International Sculling Sweep- 
stakes in, 201. 

Meyers' running in, 326-328, 402, 
404. 

Page's jumping in, 366-367. 

Pole-vaulting in, 376, 405. 

Races won by Americans in, 134. 

Rowing innovations from, 43, 
117, 119-121, 141-144. 

Runners from, in America, 329- 
330. 

Runners of, 321-324. 

Track athletics in, 251-252. 

Views of sport in, 11 3-1 14, 420- 
427. 
English Amateur Rowing Associa- 
tion, 176. 
Erie, barge, 10. 
Esty, C. C, 14. 

Etherington-Smith, English oar, 132. 
Eureka Boat Club, 152, 167. 
Eustis, John E., 86, 170, 270. 
Evanston Boat Club, 180. 
Ewry, Ray C, 370,411,413. 
Excelsior, first Yale boat, 15. 
Excelsior Boat Club, Detroit, 163. 
Exchange, four-oared boat, 13. 
Exley, John O., 187-188, 189 n. 

Falcon Boat Club, 24, 167. 
Farnsworth, J. H., II. 
Farnum, E., 151. 
Farragut Boat Club, 180. 
Farron, Thomas, 240. 
Faulkner, George, 151, 197, 198. 
Factotum at Harvard, 96, 97-98, 
103, 220. 
Fay, Andrew, 27, 148. 
Fay, J. S., 35- 

Fearing, George R., Jr., 357, 367- 
368. 



436 



Index 



Fennell, T. F., 113 n. 

Fetterman, W. B., Jr., 401. 

Field, W. W., 187. 

Finlay, T. R., 274, 388. 

First Trinity, crew of, in Centennial 

Exposition Regatta, 58, 

167-168. 
Flanagan, John, 377, 379, 383, 386, 

387-388,411,412,413. 
Flickwir, Arthur H., 134 n., 194. 
Floyd T. F. Fields, four-oar, 155. 
Folsom, Yale stroke, 87-88. 
Foote, E. T., 137. 
Foote, G. W., 137. 
Forbes, "William Innes, 193. 
Ford, Malcolm, 302, 304, 305, 370, 

395, 396, 406. 
Fox, F. Z., 358, 411. 
Fox, James P., 180. 
Francis, Charles S., 57, 86. 
Francis, Clarence W., 271. 
Frank G. Wood, four-oar, 26. 
Freeljorn, F. W., Il3n. 
French, Joseph S., 18 n. 
Friendship Boat Club, 152, 163. 

Galatea, barge, 12. 

Gallaudet, Edson F., 142, 193-194. 

Gardiner, J. P., 125, 129, 131, 133, 

134 n. 
Gardiner, W. G., Jr., 134 n. 
Gardner, pole-vaulter, 376. 
Garfield, Henry Whiting, 175. 
Gamier, hurdler, 416. 
Garrett, Princeton athlete, 383, 409, 

412,413. 
Gaudaur, Jacob, 200, 201. 
Gazelle, barge, 8, 21. 
Gazelle Boat Club, 7. 
Geiger, J., 189 n. 

George, W. G., 323-324, 329, 404. 
George B. McClellan, four-oar, 151. 
George J. Brown, four-oar, 26, 15 1. 
George Roahr, four-oar, 35. 



Georgetown, crews from, 136-137, 
138, 140. 

George Washington, four-oar, 12, 
13, 21-22. 

George Washington Boat Club, 21. 

George W. Sliaw, barge, 1 5 1. 

Gersh Banker, six-oar, 32, 151. 

"Get there" style of rowing, 31, 93. 

Geyelin, H. Laussat, 270, 271. 

Gill, Harry, 395, 396, 397. 

Glyuna, Yale boat, 32. 

Goddard, Warren N., 69. 

Goff, E. W., 395. 

Gold, Harcourt, 116, 134. 

Goldie, C. J. D., 132. 

Gondola, barge, 10. 

Gondola Boat Club, 7. 

Goodwin, C. E., sculler, 135. 

Goodwin, Jasper T., 52, 58, 61, 64, 
65, 68, 212, 220, 270. 

Goodwin, W. H., 275, 333. 

Gorman, R. T., 168. 

Gorman, T. J., 168. 

Grand Challenge Cup, American 
crews enter for, 111-112, 
115-117, 131, 215. 

Grant brothers, runners, 342-345. 

Gray, George R., 382, 406, 408. 

Gray, of Pennsylvania four, 91. 

Great Salt Lake, rowing on, l8l. 

Green, A. H., 312. 

Green, George Walton, 271. 

Green, sculler, 197. 

Greene, William A., 10. 

Greenwood Lake (rowing) Associa- 
tion, 177. 

Greer, Frank B., 186. 

Gregson, PL W., 415. 

Gring, pole-vaulter, 376. 

Griswold, Caspar, 58. 

Guernsey, H. W., 39. 

Gulick Boat Club, 147, 148, 163. 

Gull, barge, 8. 

Gunn, Adam B., 395-396. 



Index 



437 



Hager, E. C, 113 n. 
Hahn, sprinter, 290. 
Haigh, J. E., 335, 416. 
Halcyon, six-oared boat, 8. 
Halcyon, Yale boat, 17-18. 
Halcyon Boat Club, 7. 
Halifax, crews from, 197. 

International regatta at, 159. 
Hall, T., Cornell stroke, 113 n. 
Halpin, W., 373. 
Hamill, James, 43, 149-150, 155. 

Brown's race against, 156-157. 

Races in England, 150. 
Hamill four, 35. 
Hamilton, James, 18 n. 
Hamilton College, rowing at, 49, 

50-52. 
Hammer-throwing, 274, 377-389, 

392, 396. 
Hancon, John, 27. 
Handy, Alexander, 160. 
Hanlan, Edward, 197, 198, 200, 201, 

243- 

Hanlon, captain of Columbia, 135. 

Harding, John A., 14. 

Harding, Harvard stroke, 144-145. 

Hare, weight-thrower, 413. 

Hare-and-hound clubs, 348-350. 

Hargrave, N. H., 416. 

Harland, Edward, 18 n. 

Harlem Regatta Association, 165. 

Harlem Rowing Club, 186. 

Harmer, mile runner, 279. 

Harper, Paul, 139. 

Harrington, G. D., 14. 

Harrison, William Greer, 262, 263. 

Hart, Reginald L., 68, 69, 79, 86. 

Hartwell, Dr. John A., 194. 

Hartwell, of Yale crew, 102. 

Harvard, barge, 32. 

Harvard, eight-oared boat, 28. 

Harvard, six-oared shell, 30. 

Harvard Athletic Association organ- 
ized, 274. 



Harvard University, beginnings of 
rowing at, 16-17, 18-20, 
2S-29, 30-34. 
Boat-race arrangement with Yale 

concluded, 53, 55. 
Crew of, defeated by — 
Amherst, 41. 

Columbia, 48-49, 52, 100. 
Cornell, 50-53, 57, 118, 121, 

122, 123, 142. 
Massachusetts Agricultural 

College, 41. 
Oxford, 35-37. 

Yale, 30, T,T„ 38, 46, 56, 74, 78, 
94, 100, 102, 103, 105, 107, 
109, no, 144-145. 
Crew of, defeats — 
Brown, 30, 32. 
Columbia, 61, 77-78, 87, (jt^, 

97, 102. 
Yale, 17, 19, 30, 32, 34, 37-38, 
39, 61, 66, 69, 82, 88, 97, 
107, 144. 
Cross-country running at, 351. 
Freshman crews of, 29, 32, 38, 
42, 46, 66, 77-78, 83, 97, 
100, 106, 107-108, 114. 
Lehmann's work at, 120, 122, 

126, 142, 143, 212. 
Mott Haven championships, 272, 

275, 277. 
Poughkeepsie races of, 118, 121. 
Scientific School crews of, 34, 38. 
Sixty-six crew of, t^T)^ 1 51. 
Sophomore crews of, 32, 33. 
Track athletics at, 272-275. 
Harvard-Yale vs. Oxford-Cambridge, 
358, 361-362, 410-41 1, 
413-416, 425. 
Hayes, W. H., 148. 
Hedley, E., 189 n. 
Heel-and-toe walking, 398-401. 
Hemenway Gymnasium, 267, 275. 
Henderson, W. E. B., 416. 



438 



Index 



Ilenderson, W. P., 194. 
Henley, American oarsmen at, 61- 
64, 75-76, 184, 185, 187. 
Columbia's victory at, 63-64, 172, 

214. 
Cook's importations from, 43, 

141-142. 
Cornell crews at, 75-76, iii- 

114. 
Disadvantages of American col- 
lege crews at, 214-215. 
Hillsdales not admitted to, 177. 
Pennsylvania crew at, 1 31-134. 
Shoe-vvae-cae-mettes at, 1 70- 

172, 176. 
Yale at, 11 5- 117. 
Hickock, weight-thrower, 383, 388, 

389, 407. 
Higgins, sculler, 197. 
Higginson, F. L., Jr., 144, 194. 
Highland Wave, barge, 8. 
Hillsdale ioViX, 1 73-174. 

In England, 176-177, 187. 
Hind, A. E., 416. 
Hinman, William L., 18 n. 
Holland, runner, 335, 412. 
Hollis, Ira N., 194. 
Hollister, Evan, 332, 337-339. 
Holmes, F. E., 174. 
Hookenisnivey, double scull, 12. 
Hop step and jump, 370, 409. 
Horan, F. S., 336, 337. 
Horgan, D., weight-thrower, 379, 

382. 
Horton, pole-vaulter, 376. 
Hosmer, George H., 89, 198, 200, 

201. 
Howell, B. H., 184, 187. 
Howell, Princeton stroke, 80, 85, 89. 
Hoyt, W. W., pole-vaulter, 376, 409. 
Hubbell, walker, 270. 
Hudson, college racing on, iii, 114, 
118, 121, 127, 128-130, 
135-137- 



Hudson Amateur Regatta Associa- 
tion, 152. 

Hudson Amateur Rowing Associa- 
tion, 238. 

Hudson Navy, 152. 

Hughes, C. C, 317. 

Hughes, Thomas, visits Cornell, 39. 

Hull, Louis K., 93. 

Hurd, Charles H., 18 n. 

Hurdling, 354-359» 396- 

Hussar, boat crew of, 5. 

Hutchinson, Dr. James P., 193. 

Hutchinson, Pemberton S., 24. 

Hyde, A. P., 14. 

Hyde Park Boat Club, 180. 

Imp, barge, 6, 7. 
Independent Boat Club, 24. 
Independent Boat Club Association, 

8. 
Intercollegiate Athletic Association, 

266, 271-272, 277. 
Intercollegiate Conference Athletic 

Association, 288-289, 290. 
Intercollegiate Cross-Country Asso- 
ciation, 351-352. 
Intercollegiate Rowing Association, 

86, 89-90. 
Formation of a second, 123-124. 
Progress of present, 137-140. 
International Sculling Sweepstakes, 

201. 
Invincible, barge, 4. 
Iowa, track athletics in, 289. 
Iowa Rowing Association, 181. 
Ireland, athletic teams from, in 

America, 404-405, 406. 
Pennsylvania crew in, 134. 
Iris, Harvard racing boat, 16, 19. 
Iroquois Boat Club, 180. 
Ives, of Yale crew, 106. 

Jamison, G. B., 90. 
Jamison, H, B., 409. 



Index 



439 



Jarvis, sprinter, 310, 334, 412. 
J. D. R. Putnam, four-oar, 26. 
Jesus College, Columbia beats crew 

of, 63-64, 214-215. 
Jewett, Harry, 286, 
Johnson, pole-vaulter, 376, 412. 
Jones, S. S., 369. 
Jordan, A. A., 348-349- 35^, 395* 

396, 406. 
Jumping, 360-373. 

Broad, 370-372. 

Championships in, 396. 

High, 361-370. 

Records in, 372-373. 

Standing high, 369-370, 
Juvenal, James B., 187, 189 n. 

Kase, C. W., 39. 

Kelley, F. S., 187. 

Kelley, Harry, 150, 159-160, 237. 

Kellog, D. H., 58. 

Kelly, P. J., 366. 

Kemp, Peter, 201. 

Kennedy, Davidson, 69, 128. 

Kennedy, G. E. B., 184. 

Kennedy, John, 72, 145. 

Keimedy, Julian, 53, 58, 59. 

Kennedy, Thomas, 14. 

Kent, Albert E., 18 n. 

Kernan, high jumper, 361-362, 364, 

369, 416. 
Keystone Boat Club, 24. 
Kieley, weight-thrower, 379, 387. 
Kill von Kull Rowing Association, 

176. 
Kilpatrick, C. H., 332, 335-337, zi'i, 

408. 
Knickerbocker, barge, 4. 
Knickerbocker Athletic Club, 260. 
Knowles, H. S., 415. 
Kohler, G. A. E., 90. 
Kranzlein, 290, 310, 402,411,412,413. 

Hurdling by, 355, 357, 358-359. 

Jumping by, 373. 



Lady Puinam, barge, 25. 

Lafayette and American Star, 6. 

Lake George, college races on, 67, 
69. 73. 79, 83-85, 89-90. 

Lake Minnetonka, Cornell-Pennsyl- 
vania race on, no. 

Lambert, John, 151. 

Lane, F. E., 409. 

Lang, William, 254. 

Lange, walker, 401. 

Langford, G. , Yale stroke, 1 1 7 n. 

Larson, H., 26. 

Lathrop, J. G., 276. 

Laureate Boat Club, 152. 

Lawrence, N., 15 lo 

Lawrence Scientific School races, 

34, 38. 
Leander College, character of crews 

of, 214. 
Cornell crew vs., 112. 
Pennsylvania beaten by, 132-134. 
Yale beaten by, 116. 
Leary, Dennis, 148, 151. 
Lee, George, of Union Boat Club, 

171. 
Lee, George W., 170, 171, 174, 175, 

200, 201. 
Lee, H. H., 305, 307. 
Lee, James, 21-22, 24-25, 157. 
Lee, J. R, 357. 

" Leg of mutton " oars, 71, 91. 
Lehmann, Rudolph C, 120, 122, 

126, 134, 142, 143, 212. 
Leland Stanford, Jr., University; 

athletes from, 292. 
Rowing interests at, 138-140. 
Lewin, C. H., 336. 
Lewis, C. H., 185. 
Lewis, John, 53, 57, 172, 189. 
Lightner, sprinter, 310. 
Lindsay, of Pennsylvania four, 9I0 
Lindsey, John, 153. 
Lippitt, Henry, 10. 
" Little Boy in Pink," 330, 349, 



440 



Index 



Livermove, Charles F., i8 n. 
Livingstone, E. P., 2i, 69. 

Lockwood, Roscoe, 189 n. 

London Athletic Club team in New 

York, 407-408. 
London Rowing Club, American 

crews beaten by, 160, 

171-172. 
InCentennial Exposition Regatta, 

58-59, 167-168. 
Pennsylvania crew beats, 132. 
St. Johns crew beats, 158. 
Long, Maxwell W., 332, 334, 335, 

412. 
Longacre, J. M., 117 n. 
Long Island Rowing Association, 

180. 
Loring, Alden P., 35, 57, 158. 
Louis, C. A., 113 n. 
Louisiana Association of Amateur 

Oarsmen, 175. 
Ludington, hurdler, 279. 
Lurline Boat Club, 180. 
Luther, "Pat," 197, 198. 
Lyman, E. O., 35. 
Lynch, P., 26. 
Lyons, H. S., 336. 

McBurney, C. H., 151. 
McCormick, J. T., 168. 
McCracken, weight-thrower, 383, 

388,412,413. 
Maccuen, Charles J., 24. 
McDowell, Dr. W. S., 184. 
McEntee, L. H., 168. 
Mclvor, C. C, 403. 
McKay, boat-builder, 28. 
McKaye, professional oar, 160. 
McKee crew of Pittsburg, 160. 
McLanahan, pole-vaulter, 376. 
McLean, hurdler, 412. 
McLoud, John, 14. 
McMasters, "Jack," 264. 
McReynolds, A. T., 11. 



Maguire, Joseph, 186. 
At aid of Erin, eight-oar, 26, 
Maine, rowing in, 23. 
Mainland, William C, 153. 
Maloney, hurdler, 412. 
Malta Boat Club, 147, 163. 
Manahatta Boat Club, 21. 
Manchester, Horace A., 11. 
Manhattan Athletic Club, 260-261. 

Hare-and-hound team, 349-35O0 

Team from, in England, 406. 
Mapes, Herbert, 357. 
Mapes, Victor, 372, 406. 
Marcy, Virgil M. D., 14. 
Marquand, hurdler, 270. 
Marsh, E., 1S9 n. 
Marshall, John P., 14, 
Martin, Robert, 20. 
Maryland Boat Club, 152. 
Mason, English runner, 328, 
Massachusetts Agricultural College; 
boating at, 39, 46, 47. 

Beats Harvard and Brown, 41. 

Coached by Josh Ward, 41, 219. 
Mathieson, J., 26. 
Matthews, F. B., 1 13 n. 
Maxwell, hurdler, 270, 277. 
May, E. E. B., 416. 
Maybury, sprinter, 289-290, 310, 313. 
Mazanna, John, 21. 
Meek, W. H., 404. 

Meeker, Charles H., 14. , 

Megargee, Calhoun, 44, 59. 
Meikleham, W. A., 194. 
Menomonee Boat Club, 147. 
Merion Cricket Club, San Francisco, 

262-263. 
Merrill, E. E., 404. 
Merrill, runner, 334. 
Metropolitan American Rowing As- 
sociation, Boston, 189-190. 
Metropolitan Association of Amateur 

Oarsmen, 165. 
Metropolitan Rowing Club, 27. 



Index 



441 



Meyers, Lawrence E., 261, 278, 304, 

305. 307» 312, 324-329. 

333. 402, 404- 
Michael Murray, double scull, 22. 
Michigan, college athletics in, 2S5- 

2S6, 290. 
Noted crews from, 63, 73, 166- 

167, 173. See Hillsdales 

and Shoe-wae-cae-mettes. 
Miles, Charles, 18 n. 
Mills, E. W., 415-416. 
Milwaukee, boat clubs of, 25, 147. 
Mine)-va, six-oared boat, 8. 
Minerva Boat Club, 7. 
Minnesota and Winnipeg Rowing 

Association, 180. 
Minnesota Boat Club, 180. 
Mississippi Valley Association, 170. 
Mitchell, J. S., 377, 379, 384-3S6, 

406, 408. 
Moore, C. De R., 44. 
Moore, "Charley," 156. 
Morgan, E, E., 292, 357. 
Morrell, runner, 270. 
Morris, Eph., 196, 197, 200. 
Morris, John, 151. 
Morrisey, John, 159. 
Mott Haven, New York Athletic Club 

inaugurates games at, 259. 
Mott Haven cups, 272, 
Mott Haven intercollegiate games, 

Harvard championships at, 

272, 275, 277. 
Westerners in, 285, 289-292. 
Yale championships, 272, 279. 
Moulton, sprinter, 315, 317. 
Multonomah Club, Portland, Ore., 263. 
Mumford, F. J., 174, 175. 
Mumford, G. S., 118. 
Murphy, " Mike," trainer, 308. 
Murray, Frank P., 400. 
Murray, W., sculler, 175. 
Mutual Boat Club, 152, 153, 163, 1 74. 
Myers, Charles, 166. 



Nadeau, Joseph, 170, 172. 
Nadeau, Moses, 170. 
Narragansett, barge, 11. 
Narragansett Boat Club, lo-ii, 163. 
Nassau Boat Club, 152, 163. 
National Association of Amateur 
Oarsmen, formation of, 
163. 

Presidents of, 175. 

Races for college men attempted 

byp 172-173- 
Regattas of, 165-166, 169, 172- 

173, 175, 183. 
Rulings as to " amateurs," 47, 

163-164, 169, 178-179. 
Since 1885, 1S1-184. 
National Cross-Country AssociatioHp 

349- 

National Regattas, 73, 1760 

Naiitihis, four-oared boat, I4-I5' 

Nautilus, Yale racing boat, 19. 

Naval Academy, boating at, 39-40, 
72, 140. 

Nelson, F., 151. 

N^eptiiiie, four-oared boat, 26. 

Neptune Boat Club, 163. 

Nereid, Yale boat, 19. 

Nevin, sprinter, 270, 277, 281. 

Newburgh, regattas at, 8, 11, 12. 

Newell Boat Club, 143. 

New England Amateur Rowing As- 
sociation, 180. 

New England American Rowing 
Association, 189-190. 

New England Intercollegiate Ath- 
letic Association, 280. 

New England Rowing Association, 

153- 
New Jersey, barge, 12. 
New London races, 66, 69, 73-74, 

77-78, 81-83, 86-88, 92- 

94, 99, 102. 
Newman, J. Beauclerc, 24. 
New York, barge, 5. 



442 



index 



New York Athletic Club, founding 
of, 257-258. 
Games held by, 258, 278, 307, 

325- 
London Athletic Club's contests 

with, 407-408. 
Mott Haven events inaugurated 

by, 259. 
Oxford-Cambridge contests, 336. 
Represented by crew, 188. 
New York Regatta Club, 25-26. 
New York State Intercollegiate Ath- 
letic Association, 281-282. 
New York University, rowing at, 138. 
Nickalls, Guy, 116, 184. 
Nicoll, C. L., 401. 
Nightingale, George G., 10. 
Noble, T. R., 401. 
North Star Boat Club, 23. 
Northwestern Amateur Rowing Asso- 
ciation, 153, 165. 
Northwestern Boat Club, 167, 168. 
Norton, Charles Eliot, 276. 

Oarlock inventions, Davis', 70. 

Oars, improvements in, 241-243. 

Observation train, first, 66. 

O'Connor, P. J., 373. 

O'Connor, William, 201. 

O'Dea, Andrew, 125, 220. 

Ogden Boat Club, 180. 

Ohio Regattas, 165. 

Olympian Games (1896), 334, 386, 

402, 408-409. 
Olympic Club, San Francisco, 262- 

263. 
Oneida, Harvard racing boat, 1 6. 
Oneida Boat Club, 163. 
Orange Athletic Club, 261. 
Orton, George, 324, 331, 410, 411, 

412. 
Records of, 339-340. 
Ostrom, John, 50-51, 52, 57, 70. 
O'Sullivan, M., 395, 



Outriggers, first use of, 235. 
Owasco Lake, races on, 66. 
Owen, John, Jr., 264, 303, 304, 308, 

309> 315- 
Oxford, Harvard crew at, 34-37. 
Yale team's contests with team 

from, 406-407. 
Oxford-Cambridge team at New 

York (1895), 336, 368. 
Oxford-Cambridge vs. Harvard- Yale 

in track events, 358, 361^ 

362, 410-41 1, 413-416, 

425- 
Oxford Etonians, crew from St. Johns 
beats, 158, 

Pacific Amateur Rowing Association, 

175, 178. 
Pacific Barge Club, 147. 
Packard, C. S. W., 193. 
Page, W. Bird, high jumping by, 

261, 364-367- 
In England, 402, 405. 
Paine, Charles J., 18 n. 
Paine brothers at Olympian Games, 

409. 
Painter, Columbia stroke, 72. 
Palisade Boat Club, 152, 103. 
Palmerton, John, 5. 
Palmerton, Thomas, 4. 
Pan-American Games (1901), 370. 
Paper boats, history of, 61, 235-236. 
Paper-chasing, 346-353. 
Paris, Manhattan Athletic team in, 

406. 
St. Johns four in, 158. 
Paris Exposition games, 188-189, 

411-413. 
Parmley, George D., 51-52, 57. 
Parry, walker, 401. 
Parsons, E. B., 339. 
Parsons, T. E., 175. 
Passaic Boat Club, 152. 
Passaic Regattas, 86, 10 1, 165. 



Index 



443 



Patapsco Navy, 152-153. 

Patterson, H. C, 313-314. 

Peabody, J. H., 24. 

Pea7-l, six-oared boat, 8. 

Pearl Boat Club, 7. 

Peel, Robert, sculler, 197. 

Peet, Dr. Walter, 118. 

Pennsylvania. See University of 

Pennsylvania. 
Pennsylvania Barge Club, 147, 163, 

167, 187-188. 
Pennsylvania Barge-Vesper group, 

187-188, 189. 
Penrose, Harvard stroke, 97, 100. 
People's Regattas, Philadelphia, 181. 
Perkins, Harvard crew, 88, 92, 93. 
Perkins, hurdler, 357. 
Perseverance Boat Club, 174. 
Peterson, sculler, 201. 
Peverelly, Charles A., 20. 
Philadelphia, Centennial Exposition 

races at, 58-59, 167, 197. 
Rowing about, 23-24, 181, 183. 
Philadelphia Barge Club, 147. 
Philips, E. L., 48. 
Pickwick Boat Club, 152. 
Pioneer Boat Club, Yale, 14. 
Piscataqua, professional boat, 35. 
Pittsburg, boating about, 148, 149,. 

151- 
Brown-Hamill race at, 156. 
Plaisted, Fred, loi, 198. 
Plaw, weight-thrower, 292, 377, 381, 

388. 
P. L. Tucker, barge, 33. 
Pole-vaulting, 360, 373-376, 396. 
Championships in, 406. 
Ray's style in, 405. 
Porter, Admiral, and Annapolis 

rowing, 40. 
Portland, Me., Brown-Ward race at, 

155- 
Portland, Ore., track athletics at, 
263, 



Potomac Boat Club, 152. 
Potomac River Regattas, 177. 
Potter, runner, 270, 281. 
Poughkeepsie, college racing at, iii, 
114, 118, 121, 127, 128- 
130, 131, 135-137. 
First regatta at, 9-10. 
Openness of training at, 231. 
Professional four-oared crews at, 

155- 
Ward races Hamill at, 150. 
Powel, Samuel, Jr., I0I-I02. 
Powers, J. Fred, 395, 396. 
Price, sculler, 22. 
Price, walker, 270. 
Princeton College Boat Club, 39. 
Princeton University, boating at, 

38-39- 
Crews from, 47-48, 50, 83-85, 

86-87. 
Races of, for Childs Cup, 68-69, 

72-73. 79, 80, 91-92. 
Withdraws from rowing, 96. • 
Prinstein, Meyer, 372-373, 413. 
Prospect Harriers, 261, 349-350. 
Providence, Narragansett Boat Club 

formed at, 10. 
Psi Phi Boat Club, Columbia, 44. 
Psotta, C. C, 184. 
Puffer, F. C, 357. 
Purcell, Irish high jumper, 405. 
Putnam, Harrington, quoted, 239. 

Quaker City Barge Club, 24, 163. 
Quaker City four, 40. 
Quarter-mile runs, 332-335. 
Queckenberner, C. A. J., 384, 406. 
Quinlan, sprinter, 318, 41 1. 
Quinsigamond Boat Club, 23. 
Quintard Club, Chicago Navy, 1 80. 

Ramsdell, sprinter, 310. 
Ray, T., pole-vaulter, 405. 
Raymond, J. T., 158. 



444 



Index 



Reath, Thomas, 124, 193. 

Reber, C. S., 373. 

Red Michael, eight-oar, 13, 16, 

Reed, runner, 270. 

Regan, sculler, 197. 

Regatta of the Hudson Navy, 147. 

Remington, O. M., 175. 

Remington, sprinter, 406. 

Renforth, English oar, 159. 

Reynolds, William T., 14. 

Rice, Arthur, 364, 411. 

Richards, sprinter, 310. 

Richmond, barge, 5. 

Ridabock, H. G., 65. 

Riley, J. H., 197, 200. 

Ristine, A. W., 416. 

Riverside Boat Club, 163. 

Rives Boat Club, 67. 

Rives, George, 62. 

Rives, hurdler, 270. 

Roahr, George, 153. 

Robert Bache, barge, lO. 

Roberts, Stephen, 8-9, 20, 25, 26, 

157- 
Roberts brothers, 13. 
Robbins, Richard, 5. 
Robinson, Edmund R., 24. 
Rodgers, J. O., 117 n. 
Rogers, George, 71. 
Rogers, Harvard athlete, 275. 
Rollins brothers, 7-8. 
Rose, weight-thrower, 290, 377, 381, 

382. 
Ross, Wallace, 198, 200. 
Rotch, high jumper, 361-362. 
Rowdon, G. W., 366. 
Rowing Association of American 
Colleges, 40, 53, 55. 

Break-up of, 59. 
Rumohr, John, 183, 185, 186. 
Runners, American and English, 
compared, 321-324, 408. 

English, in America, 329-332. 

Middle-distance college, 332-340. 



Running, contrasted with rowing, 
249. 

Cross-country, 261, 344, 346-353. 

Five-mile, 349. 

One-mile, 396. 
Rush, James, 4. 
Rush, sprinter, 289, 313. 
Russell, J. Edward, 258. 
Rust, E. C, 416. 
Ryan, John J., 184, 186. 

Sadler, J. H., 159-160. 
Sadler, William, 159. 
Sage, E. E., 58, 61, 65. 
St. Johns, crews from, 26, 197. 

Champion four from, 158-159. 

Crew from, vs. Wards, 157-158. 
Samuel Colyer, four-oar, 155. 
Sappho Boat Club, 163. 
Saratoga, college regattas at, 47-54, 
56-58,95,124,127. 

Intercollegiate games at, 268-272. 

International races at, 159-160. 

N. A. A. O. regattas at, 172-174, 
183. 
Sargent, Dr., 268, 276. 
Sayer, runner, 334. 
Scarff, William, 196, 197. 
Schick, sprinter, 290, 315-317- 
Schifferstein, Victor H., 263. 
Schoenfuss, weight-thrower, 383. 
Scholes, Lou, 187. 
Schule, sprinter, 290. 
Schfitt, W. E., 352. 
Schuylkill, boating on the, 23-24. 

College races on, 67. 

Hamill-Ward race on, 149-150. 
Schuylkill Navy, 24, 152, 153, 163, 

164, 166, 170, 180, 181. 
Scientific Schools, races of, 34, 38. 
Scott, Thomas, 151. 
Scullers, American, at Henley, 171, 
184, 185, 187. 

Noted American, 186-187. 



Index 



445 



Seaman, Dr. Louis L., 123. 
Searle, champion sculler, 201. 
Seats in boats, 237. See Sliding 

seats. 
Seattle, track athletics at, 263. 
Seavvanhaka Boat Club, 180. 
Sergeant, George, Jr., 79, 91, 92. 
Seriousness in athletics, considera- 
tion of, 230-231,420-425. 
Seward, George, 253, 255, 403. 
Shakespeare Rowing Club, 27. 
Sharpless Cup races, 105, 178, 181. 
Shattuck, runner, 334. 
Shaw, George W., 27. 
Skazvmut, Yale racing boat, 15. 
Sheafe, Harvard oar, 145. 
Shearman, T. S., Jr., 279, 372. 
Sheffield Scientific School crews, 34, 

38, 42. 
Sheffield start, the, 300. 
Sheldon, L. P., 372, 395, 406-407, 

412, 413. 
Sheldon, Richard, 382, 383, 409- 

410, 412, 413. 
Sheridan, R. J., 387. 
Sherrill, C. H., 279, 302, 305, 308. 
Shinkle, Cornell stroke, 75-77. 
Shoe-wae-cae-mette four, 63, 167, 

170. 
Henley visit of, 170-172, 176. 
In Saratoga races (1S77), 173- 

174. 
Shooting contests, Olympian Games, 

409. 
Shot-putting, 377, 378-381, 382-383, 

396. 
Sibley, S. H., 11. 
Silver Lake, regattas on, 198. 
Simmons, William H., 34, 35. 
Simonds, A. B., 44. 
Simpson, J. H., 117 n. 
Singles, first championship race in, 

8-9. 
Sixty -six crew. Harvard, 33, 151. 



Skelding, Arthur E., 18 n. 
Skeleton boats, first use of, 21, 
Sliding seats, 38, 237. 

Davis' improvements in, 70. 

English and American views of, 
210. 

Varieties of, 42. 
Smith, Professor A. W., 1 39. 
Smith, Charles M., 29. 
Smith, Edward, 160. 
Smith, L. J., 134 n. 
Smith, S. Howard, 14, 416. 
Smith, William, 14. 
Snider, Peter, 4. 

Soren, Walter, 268, 275, 369-370. 
Spark, barge, 12, 13. 
Spiked shoes, first American use of, 

258-259. 
Spillman, E. O., 113 n. 
Spirit of the Times quoted, 2IO. 
Spoon blade introduced, 31, 242. 
Spraker, J. S., 361, 416. 
Springfield, boat clubs of, 152. 

Harvard-Yale races at, 18-20, 56. 

Regattas at, 23, 40-42, 44, 61. 

Ward beats Brown at, 156. 

Ward-Biglin race at, 196. 

Ward brothers race crews from 
St. Johns at, 157-158. 
Sprinters, a consideration of, 296- 
300. 

Notable college, 303-320. 

Short-distance, 310-320. 
Sprinting, championships in, 396. 

Hundred-yard, 303-310. 
Stanley, Hannibal, 14. 
Stansbury, James, 201. 
Star, barge. See American Star. 
Star, eight-oared boat, 13. 
Starts in sprinting, 300-303. 
Staten Island Athletic Club, 260, 

325- 
Stedman, G. A., Jr., 29. 
Steele, of Crescent Boat Club, 166. 



446 



Index 



Stephen, Sir Leslie, as referee, 

252. 
Stevens, William, 155. 
Steward's Cup, Henley, 61-62. 

American fours enter for, 171. 

Columbia tries for, 61-63. 
Stewart, W. M., Jr., 69. 
Stimpson, Walter, 180. 
Stoll, Robert, 317. 
Stone, E. L., 375, 406. 
Storrow, E. C, 143, 194. 
Storrow, J. J., 96. 
Stranger, barge, 151. 
Stroke, Bacon's (Yale), 32-33. 

Bancroft's (Harvard), 60, 66, 
103, 211. 

Blaikie's (Harvard), 33-34. 

Cook's, 43-44, 48, 56, 102, 211. 

Courtney's, 104-105, 135. 

Davis' " freak," 80-82. 

Description of present American 
college, 213-214. 

Discussion of American, com- 
pared with English, 214- 
218. 

"Donkey engine," Yale's, 88. 

Early college, 31-32. 

English, at Harvard, 1 20-1 21. 

English improvements in, 203- 
204. 

Harvard's, contrasted with Ox- 
ford's, 36-37. 

" Jack-knife," 60. 

Shoe-wae-cae-mettes', 170-171. 

Storrow's (Harvard), 96-97. 

Varieties of, 42. 
Suburban Harriers, 261, 329, 349- 

350- 
Swan, Alden S., 46, 153. 
Swan, C. J., 416. 
Swayne, W., Jr., 310. 
Sweeney, M. F., 368, 408. 
Swift, E. M., 45. 
Swinburn, John, 4. 



Swivel oarlocks, 70, 240-241. 

Use of, in eights, 241. 
Sylph, barge, 10. 
Syracuse, crews from, 138. 

Taylor- Winship four, 159-160. 
Teenier, John, 200, 201. 
Ten Eyck, E. H., 183, 184-186, 189. 
Ten Eyck, James, 184, 186, 188, 196, 

198, 200, 220. 
Terwilliger, C. W., 173. 
Tewkesbury, sprinter, 310, 411, 412, 

413- 
Texas, intercollegiate games in, 293. 

Regattas held in, 175. 
T. F. Aleagher, eiglit-oar, 26. 
Thames Rowing Club, Hillsdales' 
race with, 177, 
Pennsylvania crew beats, 132. 
" Theoretical " start, the, 300. 
Thetis, of Harvard '63, 32. 
Thomas, Charles, 21, 22, 25, 197. 
Thomas, Sidney, 350. 
Jlioinas Jefferso7t, four-oar, 20. 
Thompson, of Atalanta Club, 21. 
Thompson, W. E., 395. 
Thiilia, Yale boat, 32. 
Tinne, J. C, 37. 
Titus, Constance S., 183, 186-187, 

194. 
Tom Hughes Boat Club, Cornell, 39. 
Toronto, rowing club of, 27. 
Training, old and new methods of, 

226-231, 275. 
Treadway, R. B., 117 n. 
Trinity College, boating interest at, 
28-29, 39. 
Crews from, 44, 46, 47. 
Triton, barge, 8. 
Triton Boat Club, 163, 1 70. 
Troy, boat clubs of, 152, 176. 

Regattas held at, 166. 
Trumbell, track athlete, 277. 
Twilight, Pittsburg boat, 151, 



Index 



447 



Tyler, John, Jr., 148. 

Tyne, crew from the, 159-160. 

Undine, Yale boat, 17, 
Undine Boat Club, 24, 152, 163. 
Union, professional boat, 35. 
Union Boat Club, Boston, 19, 22-23, 

163, 164. 
Union Boat Club, New York, 187. 
Union Club, Chicago Navy, 180. 
Union College, admitted to Rowing 
Association of American 
Colleges, 49. 
Crews from, 50-52, 56-57. 
University Barge Club, 24, 44. 
University of California, rowing, 138. 

Track events, 291. 
University of Michigan, athletics at, 

285-286, 290. 
University of Pennsylvania, advent 
of, in four-mile boat-rac- 
ing, 99-100. 
Childs Cup races of, 68-69, 72- 
73, 79, So, 91-92, 96, 105. 
Coached by Ellis Ward, 68, 72, 

92, 104, 131, 212. 
Colors of, first worn in intercolle- 
giate contest, 270. 
Cornell beaten by, at Saratoga 

(1884), 94-95. 
Dublin crew beaten by, 134. 
Henley trip of, 131-134. 
In Downing Cup race, 102. 
Minnesota trip of, 1 10. 
Poughkeepsie races of, 11 7-1 18, 

121-122, 128-131, 135. 
Sharpless Cup race of, 105. 
University Barge Club of, 24, 44. 
University of Wisconsin vs., 128- 

I30> 131- 

Varsity races of, 67, 73, 94-95, 
101-104, 106-107, 117, 
121, 128-131, 135-136. 

Yale's defeat by (1899), 103-104. 



University of Vermont, early view 

of athletics at, 283-284. 
University of Virginia, rowing at, 67. 
University of Washington, rowing 

taken up by, 139. 
University of Wisconsin, crews from, 

119, 121, 124-125, 128- 

129, 138. 
Upper Hudson Navy, 176. 

Van Derometer, runner, 270. 

Van Duzer, Henry S., 194. 

Van Ingen, hurdler, 357. 

Van Lennep, oarsman, 52. 

Van Raden, T., 160. 

Van Valkenburgh, E. B., 173. 

Van Vliet, Philadelphia oarsman, 

i88. 
Vesper Boat Club, Glenmont, 163. 
Vesper Boat Club, Philadelphia, 59, 

152, 163, 167, 187. 
Crew from, in Paris Exposition 

Regatta, 188-189. 
Victoria, barge, lO. 
Vienna, Cornell's race at, 76-77. 
Vincent, runner, 334. 
Virginia, college rowing in, 67. 
Virginia Association of Amateur 

Oarsmen, 175. 
Visitor's Cup, Henley, 61-62. 

Columbia four wins (1878), 63- 

65, 171, 214. 
Volante Boat Club, 29, 
Voorhees, J. S., 372. 
Vosburgh, W. S., 348. 

Wachusett Boat Club, 185, 188. 
Wah-wah-sum Boat Club, 163. 
IVah-wah-stim four, 166-167, 174. 
Waite, Richard, 18. 
Walk, seven-mile, 269. 
Walking, 398-401. 
Ward, Charles, 149, 155. 
Ward, Dudley, 132. 



448 



Index 



Ward, Ellis F., 68, 72, 92, loi, 104, 
131, 149, 154, 157, 158, 
196, 197, 212, 220. 

Ward, Gilbert, 148, 149, 155. 

Ward, "Hank," 48, 149, 155, 158. 

Ward, Joshua, 26-27, 32> 41) 148- 
149, 150, 151, 155. 

Ward family, the, 26, 149. 

Ward four, 15 7- 1 5 8. 

Harvard six beaten by, 158. 

In Saratoga races, 159-160, 239- 

240. 
Weights of, 234. 

Waring, George H., 24. 

Warre, Dr., 134. 

Warren, Joseph, 18 n. 

Washington, D. C, boat clubs of, 152. 

Washington, six-oared boat, 8, 9-10, 
12, 13. 

Washington and Lee University, re- 
gattas of, 67. 

Washington Barge Club, 152. 

Waterman, Rufus, lo-ii. 

Waters, boat-builder, 236. 

Watkins Boat Club, 167, 168. 

Watkiiis Rowing Association, 170. 

Watson, James, 162. 

Watson, R. C, 60, 81, 83, 1 19-120, 
158. 

Wave, barge, 7, 8, 13. 

Wave Boat Club, 7. 

Waverley Boat Club, 147. 

Webb, Creighton, 271. 

Webster, William H., 153. 

Weeks, F. D., 57. 

Weeks, William J., 14. 

Wefers, Bernard J., 298, 308, 309, 
310, 311, 402, 407-408. 
Sprinting career of, 312-315. 

Weight of rowing men, 233-234. 

Weight-throwing, 377-389, 391, 392, 
396. 

Weld, W. F., 53. 

Weld Boat Club, 143. 



Wells, S. T., 275, 333. 

Wendell, Evart, 275, 277-278, 305, 

306-307, 317. 
Wenona, barge, 25. 
Wenona Boat Club, 25. 
Wesleyan University, crews from, 

41-42, 46, 48, 49, 50-52, 

56-57, 69-70, 83-85. 
Westchester Hare and Hounds, 348. 
Westchester Harriers, 261. 
Western Intercollegiate Association, 

286-287. 
Westing, sprinter, 261, 303, 305- 

306, 315, 317, 406. 
West Philadelphia Boat Club, 152. 
" What is an Amateur? " Watson's, 

162. 
Wheeler, Benjamin Ide, 123, 124, 139. 
White, E. C, 395. 
White, Dr. J. William, 193. 
White, Professor J. W., 276. 
White, President, of Cornell. 53. 
Whitehall, barge, 5. 
Whitehall four, 5, 25. 
Whitehead, J. J., 186. 
Whiton, James M., 17. 
" Who is the Amateur? " Curtis', 162. 
Wilcox, A., 47. 
Willan, F., 37. 
Willard, Sidney, 18 n. 
Williams, Alpheus S., 11. 
Williams, hurdler, 357. 
Williams, John W., 24. 
Williams College, crews from, 41, 

45-47. 50-52- 
Track athletics at, 280. 
Wilmer, W. C, 304. 
Wilson, J. D., 173. 
Winnipeg Boat Club, 180, 188. 
Winsor, J. D., Jr., 369. 
Winter indoor games, first, 260. 
Winter practice in rowing, 229. 
Wisconsin. See University of Wis- 
consin. 



Index 



449 



Withers, Russell, 153, 160. 

Witmer, of Crescent Boat Club, 166. 

Wood, C. G., 405. 

Wood, Fred, 71. 

Wood, William, 2,3- 

Wooden, Homer, 155. 

Woodruff, George W., 109, 118. 

Woodruff, weight-thrower, 388. 

Worcester, Dean, 285. 

Worcester, Mass., regattas at, 23, 29- 

30. 32, 33> 148, 155. 183. 
Workman, Rev. H. W., 414-416, 
Wrecker's Daughter, fourteen-oar, 

25- 
Wright, Harvard runner, 334. 
Wright, Pennsylvania stroke, 104. 
Wyandottes, Michigan four, 73. 

Yale, six-oared shell, 30. 
Yale Navy organized, 18. 
Yale University, beginnings of row- 
ing at, 13-15. 
Centennial Exposition races of, 

58-59. 
Concludes agreement for annual 
race with Harvard, 53, 55. 
Cook's relations with, 43, 49, 56, 
91, 93, 115-117, 123, 126, 
141-142, 211. 
Cornell challenge refused by, 65. 
Crew of, defeated by — 
Amherst, 41-42. 
Columbia, 48-49. 
Cornell, 50-53, 121, 123, 142. 
Harvard, 17, 19, 30, 34, 37- 
38, 39, 61, 66, 69, 82, 88, 

97. 107, 144- 
Leander, 116. 
Princeton, 48, 



Yale University [eonfimied] — 
Crew of, defeats — 

Atala7tta crew, 105-106. 

Harvard, 30, 32-33, 38, 46, 

56, 74, 78, 94, 100, 102, 

103, 105, 107, 109, no, 

142, 144-145- 

Pennsylvania, 99, 102, 103, 

104. 
University of Wisconsin, 121. 
Davis at, 70-72, 78, 80-81, 87- 

88. 
Draws out of Rowing Association 
of American Colleges, 53. 
Early boats of, I4-15. 
First boat club at, 14. 
First racing boat at, 15. 
Freshman crews of, 32, 38, 42, 
46, 102, 104, 106, 107- 
108, 114-115. 
Henley visit of, 11 5-1 17. 
Mott Haven championships, 272, 

279. 
Race against Atalanta crew, 105— 

106. 
Scientific School crews of, 34, 38. 
Track athletics at, 272-273, 276- 

279. 
Track athletic team from, in Eng- 
land, 406—407. 
Yarborough, A. C, 37. 
Yates, F. E., 168. 
Youngman, William S., 190. 
Y. Y., Harvard four-oar, 19-20. 

Zachary Taylor, four-oared shell, 

21-22. 
Zane, R. 'R., 134 n. 
Zephyr Boat Club, 152. 



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